Science & Faith
by Without A Box
Summary: Amy/11 - 'You can break everything down to chemicals, but you can't explain a love like ours'. Author's Note now up, it's probably important that you read it.
1. Chapter I

So. I was listening to my iTunes and suddenly this popped into my head, I couldn't just let the idea die, and thus this was born. There could be infinite mistakes in here, I warn you. If there are, feel free to leave me a review and point them out so I can edit them?

Sigh,** I don't own Doctor Who**, but I wish I did...

Anyway, I supposed I best shut up now. Enjoy? Review? ;3

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><p>"Why did you do that?" Amy called across the control room, making beady eyes at the wondrous man in her presence.<p>

A chuckle echoed around the larger-than-life room. "Why Amelia, do what?" A grin lit the time lord's face.

Amy didn't seem so amused.

"You just left my husband behind," She paused, wanting to use his name. Frustratingly, she didn't know. Nobody knew. "Doctor!"

He wasn't paying attention to the flame-haired Scot. He was too busy fiddling with a new contraption he'd discovered on the TARDIS console.

"Don't you dare." Amy threatened, raising a hand to him. "Don't. You. Dare."

He looked at her mischievously. "Dare what, pond?"

Soft green light poured from the console as the TARDIS whirred, taking the couple to goodness knows where.

Shudders vibrated through the floor of the control room, sending the Doctor and Amy tripping over their own feet. Hysterical laughter escaped the Doctor's lips as the adrenaline began pumping through his two hearts. Never in his vast life would he get over the sensation caused by this. Any planet, any solar system, any universe, any time. All at his fingertips. Outside the TARDIS doors was a world that promised to be so fascinating, holding such treasures that no other planet could.

Amy, being new to the sensations of time travel, was just as giddy. She leant against the railings trying to mentally prepare herself for the sight she would meet. Would it be safe? Who knows. But she had her doctor.

And she was off to see the pretty things the universe held for her.

"Ready?" He said, taking her hand, looking into her eyes. God, those eyes would be the death of him. He knew it.

"Yeah," Amy said in a small voice. She didn't look at him, her eyes stared at the glow coming from underneath the floor.

"No. What's up, pond?"

"You left my husband behind. And I don't care. I should care. I love him. But I don't care. Why don't I care?" She spat out. Was she falling for the time lord? She couldn't be. She had Rory. She couldn't ever hurt him. Couldn't go off with another man behind his back. But she had. And she didn't care.

"Do you want to go back?" Both his hearts ached at the prospect of letting her go.

She shook her head weakly.

"I've got both of you at my fingertips, and I'm married to Rory! So why the hell am I here with you? Why am I doing this?" Tears fell across her cheeks. The doctor raised his hand to wipe them away, but hesitated.

Drawing a steady breath, Amy gathered herself.

"I'm going to break his heart. And there's no way it's going evenly."

They left the TARDIS in silence, neither willing to admit to anything. Their hands, once entwined, now swayed alone. The Doctor led the way across the new, strange planet, never stopping to look at the view. Already, his stupid mistake was falling apart. It was always going to be the end before the beginning. No matter what he did, it would go wrong. In trying to save his own selfish feelings, he had slaughtered another relationship. A relationship that held all the necessities to bloom into a long, happy life. He had destroyed that prospect for a relationship that he knew could never be. He and Amy could never be together.

There was never going to be a beginning, a beautiful life together.

There was only the end. There was only ever the end.

Treading across purple grass was a new experience for Amelia Pond. It made a satisfying crunch under her boots as she struggled to keep up with the Doctor, gallivanting far ahead of her. They hadn't spoken since Amy's semi-breakdown in the TARDIS. Pressure was just getting heavier, weighing down on both of them. Amy couldn't understand her feelings. She loved Rory! So why was she standing here, wishing she could just run up to the marvellous Doctor and kiss him? If she loved Rory so, then why had the Doctor had such an influence on her life? Why had she allowed it?

Amy had thought it was fate for her and Rory, but this situation was proving her wrong. She knew that time, such a delicate thing, could be rewritten. But could love?

"Doctor!" Amy called when it'd become too difficult to keep up.

He stopped and turned to face her, his hearts picking up at the sight. Why couldn't Amy be like him? She was so human. So human it hurt him. He could never love her the way Rory did. The human way, the normal way. He wasn't her kind, and she wasn't his. His fingers curled into fists as he tried to calm himself down. All he wanted to do was to take Amy away in his magical blue box and show her the universe. He wanted her to join him, and she had. Rory could never give her the universe. Only the Doctor held that honour. But could the Doctor give her that insanely human love? Could his two hearts ever match that of Rory's one?

A red-faced Amy caught up to him, leaning on his shoulder for support. All that mattered was that she was here, joining him on the greatest adventure of both their lives.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor whispered, feeling the sting in his chest. "I- I don't know what I was doing."

"It's-" Amy's words were stolen as the sky suddenly exploded into a billion different colours. At the heart of it gases ignited, spewing beautiful chaos into the sky. Both pairs of curious eyes watched as the star unfolded in front of them. There were so many stars in the skies, but to arrive as one was dying was an achievement, even by time-lord standards. Only twice had the Doctor witnessed such an event as this, and both from the comfort of his old blue box. This was a first for his old eyes, as it was for Amy's young ones.

Witnessing the death of the star, both of them forgot about what had lead them here. Both forgot about Rory, alone in a different universe, probably wondering where the Doctor had taken his wife and if he was going to return her. Hands found hands, and as they made contact Amy's cheeks turned a delicious shade of crimson to match the sky. She didn't understand how she could feel this way, but she did. And it was one of the greatest feelings on Earth. Or in this case, not.

Back alone in the TARDIS, the Doctor and Amy sat on the stairs, bodies so close they were almost one. Neither spoke, the only sound came from the glorious machine that would take them across the universe. Amy opened her mouth to speak, but didn't know what to say. She didn't know where to start. Her mind drifted to Rory, who stayed confused back on Earth. He stayed alone in her house, waiting for the Doctor to return her. She wanted to go back, she missed him. She looked at the old, yet so youthful, man sitting next to her. She couldn't leave him behind, facing the rest of time and space with no one else there. He needed her company if he was to stay his amazing self. He needed that spark that she seemed to give him. Amy hated to admit it, but she needed him too. Not more than she needed Rory, but not less. Eventually she'd have to leave one of them behind, to become long gone. But which life would she choose, if ever?

The Doctor could not figure out why he felt the way he did. There had to be a scientific reason for it, perhaps a mere complication of chemicals? Nothing as magical as love would exist by itself. Science would be there to help it along. "What's happening to me?" he thought out loud.

Amy looked at him, surprised by his outburst of speech.

"This can't happen. This - this _love_," He spat the word, "Can never happen!" Running frustrated fingers through his hair, he sighed. "I can't feel this way. I can _never_ feel this way. Things can be broken to chemicals, but not this. This has no explanation."

He turned to Amy, tears building up in his eyes. "I'm sorry Amelia. I'm so, so sorry."

Amy shook her head in confusion, her tears surging forward to accompany his.

"I-," He hesitated, feeling physically and mentally sick. "I... love you,"

Feeling stupidly confident, he placed a light hand on her cheek, forcing her to look at him. 'Say something' his eyes willed. They both held their breath, stunned at his confession. Amy looked at him doubtfully. The Doctor didn't love, it simply wasn't in his complicated, wonderful nature.

"Trust me," He whispered. Amy bit her lip - how many times had she fallen for that? How many times would she fall again?

"Kiss me," Amy didn't mean to let her wish escape. But it did.

Slowly, the Doctor leaned towards Amy, gently pulling her face closer to his at the same time. Millimetres before their lips met, he stopped. "Sure?"

His breath tickled Amy's lips.

"Sure." She replied.

It was nothing more than the slightest brush of lips, lasting not even a second. It was long enough to have an effect on the pair. Amy's lips tingled with electricity, her eyes half-shut in anticipation of another kiss. She'd never experienced anything like that before. Neither had the Doctor, a man with nine hundred years of life to his name. There was always a first time for everything.

"Doctor?" Amy said, their kiss still lingering on her lips. He rested his forehead on hers, just staring at her. He couldn't comprehend how that had felt. To be able to finally know what it was like to have her lips on his was sensational. Then he remembered Rory.

"You're married." He whispered. "You're married and I just kissed you." He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to forget she was a married woman.

"I'm yours."

The Doctor reached for Amy's left hand, feeling for her wedding ring. It, and the promise it held to Rory, wasn't there.

"I made my choice." She said, going to kiss him again.

"No." He jerked his head back, realisation hitting him. "You love Rory, not me."

Amy opened her mouth to protest, but the Doctor kept talking.

"I'm not going to let you destroy your life with him. I'm taking you back, right now."

He pushed away and fled to the safety of the console, ignoring Amy's shouts.

Flicking endless dials, the Doctor tried to block out Amy's voice. Get her home, he thought; get her away from yourself before you do something you'll both regret. He'd already done enough damage; there was no need to dig the grave deeper. He froze as Amy laid her hands on his. The fact that her ring was missing was painfully obvious, it made his hearts sink. The TARDIS began to judder as they re-entered the Earth's atmosphere. In five minutes they'd be back in Amy's garden. According to the ancient screen, only a minute had passed since he'd snatched her from Rory. He took the girl he loved from her husband for his own selfish needs and desires. He'd manipulated this poor human into believing that there was even a possibility of a future together. Who had given him authority to come and meddle with humanity? He wished that his soul would be saved, but he knew that he'd torn it apart the second he'd laid eyes on Amy Pond all those years ago.

Almost roughly, the Doctor grabbed Amy's shoulder and pushed her up against the railings of the TARDIS.

"You're hurting me," She whimpered as the grip on her shoulder tightened.

"Why can't you be like me?" He shouted, his voice echoing around the empty TARDIS. "Why do you have to be so human?"

"Doctor, please, you're hurting," Amy could almost feel his fingers going through her shoulder blade.

Amy's plea seemed to reach him that time, as he immediately let go of her. She fell a little before grabbing the railing behind her to support herself. Her cheeks were wet with tears. The Doctor was disgusted with himself. He didn't deserve such a creature as Amy when he could tolerate ever hurting her.

"Just go. Go back to Rory and forget I ever existed."

Amy inhaled sharply, her breaths interrupted by tears. "But I love you,"

"No, you don't." He said, his voice somewhat softer. "I can't give you half what Rory can, Amy. He's better for you than me,"

"Don't say that. You're every bit as good as him and more. He can't give me the universe." She smiled weakly, still feeling the pain in her shoulder.

"I can't give you love, Amy. I'd kill you. How am I meant to live with that?"

"You've already given it to me. If you honestly feel…" she paused.

"… like that, then you can't say no." She tried to reason with whatever it was making him push his own feelings down. "I don't care if you aren't human. I fell for _you_, not your species."

"I'd kill you." He repeated. "All I want is to give you everything I can, and if I do, you'll die. This can't happen. I'm not putting you in danger like that."

Amy sighed, still leaning against the TARDIS railings. "You'll never hurt me."

"Never say that. You don't know what I'm capable of. Never, Amelia Pond, say never to me."

The Doctor's eyes hardened into an emotion that Amy had never seen before. Although Amy was the type of girl who didn't get scared of anything, his expression truly frightened her. She knew he was right, but when wasn't he? Amy had _**no idea**_ what the Doctor was capable of. She'd watched him build up empires, only to tear them down again with the mention of his name. She'd watched as he left whole worlds to burn, trying not to hear the screams of the perishing. All of those things could easily split a person's soul into so many different pieces, and yet the Doctor had never even seemed phased. How could he withstand it?

The more Amy thought about it, the less humane the Doctor became.

"And that, Amelia Pond, is why you are going home right now."

Amy threw the Doctor a terrified look.

He couldn't be serious.

His eyes told differently.

Amy's heart dropped through her stomach as the familiar landing noise echoed around the control room. Her knuckles faded to white as she locked her fingers around the railings. Today was not the day she left the TARDIS. Today was not the day she left _him_. She shook her head adamantly, tightening her already-iron grip as the Doctor walked towards her. His purpose was clear. Even if it broke his hearts, he was going to get her off this TARDIS and back where she belonged. A small voice in the back of his head broke through his anger: _What if she belongs here?_

Keeping his eyes downcast, the Doctor laid his hands over Amy's trying to make her to let go. He felt the tendons in her hands stand out as her grip tightened. He sighed, exhausted and overrun with so many different emotions.

"Let go." He said politely, not letting his feelings leak through.

"You can't make me." Amy replied in a small voice, staring up at him through her eyelashes. The Doctor hesitated, hating the idea that had popped into his head. If he was going to get Amy out of here, it was worth a try.

He crushed his mouth against hers, distracting her long enough to pry her hands from the railings. Before the Doctor could get carried away, he pulled back. With venom in his eyes he began to push Amy towards the TARDIS door, ignoring her small cries and protests. She struggled against him, but it was a losing battle. He was far too strong for her, and within moments her back was pressed against the TARDIS door.

Amy inhaled, trying to stop herself from crying. If the Doctor loved her,_ which she was positive he did_, then why was he so eager to push her away?

"Go home, Amelia Pond." The door swung open, revealing her back garden.

The Doctor released her, swiftly turning and retreating to the console. After a few painful seconds, Amy still hadn't moved.

"Just go!" He shouted at her, louder and more furiously than he ever had before.

Whimpering, Amy began to back away, tears wetting her cheeks. "Doctor… I…"

"Go!" The Doctor bellowed at the Scot. It was so vicious, so unlike him, that she gasped a little. Absolutely terrified she backed out of the TARDIS, tripping and landing in her garden. The TARDIS door slammed shut and started to dematerialise. Immediately, Amy was on her feet, begging the Doctor not to leave her again. She knew her hope was wasted and that he couldn't hear her.

Inside the TARDIS, the opposite was true. He couldn't _stop_ hearing her helpless cries as he abandoned her again. Flicking a switch on the TARDIS console, he shut off the sound of her pleas, leaving himself in the most intolerable silence that had ever existed.

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><p>I think the Doctor turns into a ryte moody so-and-so in that last bit. Aha.<p>

_If you managed to read all of that without getting bored, I salute you. Be a doll and leave me a review, pretty please? It might actually keep me motivated to keep writing... :L_

_A virtual hug to anyone that does actually review,_

**_Maddie._**


	2. Chapter II

Well hello there lovlies! (...o.O?) I was so impressed with the response for the first chapter that I've been working dead hard to get this one done! So so so so so so _**grateful for the reviews**!_ Keep them coming?

And, for the disclaimer: **I don't own Doctor Who**. That honour lies with the BBC.

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><p>Trying to find something, anything, to distract him from Amelia Pond, the Doctor wandered helplessly around the TARDIS corridors. It was wasted; anything he did reminded him of Amy. His chest felt heavy with the burden of his hearts. They were weighed down by the immense guilt that his actions had spurred. He continued pacing down the corridors, not bothering to look at which rooms he passed. If anything, he'd be grateful to get lost. The Doctor sighed. No matter how long he kept walking, the TARDIS would always get him back to where he needed to be. There was no escape and he'd never felt so... dead before.<p>

Amy shivered, the cold wind biting at her cheeks. The energy she required to move still hadn't returned to her, and she remained heaped on the grass. Mindlessly, her fingers pulled at the green tufts. Her eyes settled on the empty space before her, the image of the TARDIS dematerialising playing over and over again in her head. She tried to look away, but the heart-breaking image followed her. Briefly she wondered if it were possible to die of a broken heart. Her life was nothing without the Doctor, and she knew that. Without him she was a frightened little girl who could never protect herself. In leaving her, he'd opened up a whole new realm of hell. Amy was almost angry, how could he put her through this again? Did he even know what he'd let her in to? Did he even care?

"Amy! What are you doing out there?" The familiar voice had Amy dragging her eyes away from her painfully empty garden. The figure stood, half leaning out of the door, half hiding behind it from the cold.

"D-D..." She tried to say his name, but it was stuck in her throat.

"It's okay Amy. I'm here, you're safe." Rory's arms wrapped around her shoulders. The feeling was alien; she didn't want to be in anyone's arms but his. And he was gone.

"N-" Her words, or what there was of them, were incoherent.

"Let's get you inside,"

She felt her anatomy being pulled away from the ground, but her frame was too weak for her to stand. She wobbled uncertainly as Rory heaved her limp arm over his shoulders.

"Walk for me Amy."

Amy took tentative steps forward.

"That's it." Rory said encouragingly.

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor was still wandering aimlessly around the matrix of corridors. His mind was a mess. Different thoughts of 'Amy' and 'Leave' and 'Hate' and 'Guilt' circled him, making him feel trapped in his own mind. A sharp sting of chlorine through his nose brought him somewhat back to reality. He reached out with a pallid hand to push open the elusive door. The pungent scent of swimming pool water wasn't what got him first. He'd promised Amy this room when she was seven years old. _Before he'd left her the first_ _time_. Tears surged forward, threatening to overpower him. Feeling helpless and lost, he gave in, letting his emotions engulf him. The light bounced off of the water, bathing him in double the light. He felt like the TARDIS was putting a spotlight on him, only illuminating his state when what he wanted most was to hide it. The Doctor didn't cry for just anyone.

Amy wasn't just anyone to him. She was his one.

Amy's eyes fluttered open as she felt a nudge on her shoulder. Her heart spiked, thinking the Doctor had returned for her. Her face dropped as Rory came into view. He sat next to her on a stool he'd taken from her kitchen, twisting his fingers together nervously. She refused the reality in front of her, trying to get herself back to sleep where she could dream that nothing had ever happened. Of course, now that she was awake she had to face it. There was no escape now.

"Are you feeling okay, Amy?" Rory asked, concerned for his wife's health, both mentally and physically. "You've been acting strange in your sleep. Is something wrong?"

The situation called for total honesty, but Amy couldn't bring herself to say it. She couldn't hurt him, no matter how much she was hurting herself. She smiled at her husband fakely. _Her husband_.

"Everything's fine." She croaked, feeling her heart split even more as the lie left her lips.

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

The Doctor stared at his reflection in the pool water, shocked at himself. His eyes were sunken and bleak, missing the ordinary warmth. They screamed _broken_ at him, so loud it was as if there really was a voice shouting at him. The pressure on his skull was increasing as his thoughts pushed out. He needed to expel them, talk to someone. He stood for a moment, ready to go and find Amy, before realising where she was. He'd pushed away the only person that he would ever be able to open up too. He'd pushed her away when they both needed each other the most. How could he tolerate this endless life knowing that as his last act, he'd broken three hearts beyond repair?

After meeting Amy, his exit wounds losing Rose left him had finally begun to heal. Now that he'd left her too they were begin ripped open again, deeper than before. They ate through him until he was a shell. In losing Amy he'd lost himself. The only way to get himself back was to _go __back and get her_. He shook his head at how tempting the idea sounded.

"She belongs to Rory. Not you." He thought aloud. "Get that out of your thick head."

Amy hadn't eaten in days. Her cheeks were gaunt and her eyes were dim. Her hair fell lifelessly around her face, sticking to her wet cheeks where she hadn't stopped crying. She had thought it impossible that a human could cry so much in the space of two days. _Two days knowing that the person you love left you, again._

She couldn't comprehend his actions. Had he been lying to her when he said he loved her? Her raggedy Doctor had manipulated her heart, leaving it for dead when he left. The awful thing was that Amy would let him do it all again if it meant she was with him. This state, this crying, broken, alone state, wasn't her. She wasn't her without him. She was convinced that they were made to be together. Love knows no age, or species. Or so Amy thought.

Her bedroom door creaked open and Rory poked his head through the gap. His stomach wrenched at the sight of her. She looked so _ill_. Rory wanted to help her, but she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. Amy's emotions remained locked up inside her, when what she really needed was to let them out. That was impossible in itself. She would never open up to anyone ever again after last time. Last time had cost her the one thing she was sure was right in her life.

She'd never been particularly lucky, being tormented all her life as she waited for her fantastic Doctor to return to her. People had laughed, and teased, and threatened. They wanted her gone, and when her Doctor returned, she would be. Only Rory had ever made her smile. She loved him, but as a brother or a best friend. Not as a husband, not as a boyfriend and never more as a faithful companion. He'd been there when no one else was, offering himself to her to make her feel loved. To make her know someone actually cared.

If the Doctor was ever going to get over Amy, he had to destroy the evidence that she was ever even there. He heaved himself out of the pool room, throwing a wistful look over his shoulder before heading to find Amy's bedroom. His hearts felt heavy as he wandered the corridors, silently praying that he'd never find the room. Unfortunately, he knew exactly where to go. The door was still ajar, and the Doctor could just make out the shadow of her bed. The TARDIS would've altered the room to any way Amy required it. Through that door was the place she'd always wanted to be. Even if she wasn't here physically, her deepest wishes were in that room.

He almost didn't want to see, it felt like a betrayal. But it was famed that the Doctor's curiosity would eventually get the better of him. After what felt like aeons hesitating a few steps back, he nudged the door with his foot, letting it swing open slowly. For all the Doctor knew, he could've been stepping into Amelia's bedroom back in Leadworth. Everything was identical, and for once in his expansive life, the Doctor was lost for words. The TARDIS had created every last detail perfectly. The Doctor smiled. A heart broken, melancholy smile. He spotted a red sphere on the desk and nearly choked on the sudden surge of emotion. The face he'd carved into an apple he'd taken from Amelia's kitchen smiled back at him, fresh as it was all those years ago.

"Oh Amy." The Doctor sighed, collapsing onto her bed, trying not to disturb the untidy mess Amy had left the covers in. Her scent still lingered on the fabric, swirling up his nose, rendering him helpless. Tears began to stain her pillow as the Doctor drifted into a painful, sadness-induced, dreamless sleep.

"_**I think we dream so we don't have to be apart so long. If we're in each other's dreams, we can be together all the time"**_

The subconscious mind was a wonderful thing.

By some miracle, both the Doctor and Amy had fallen prey to the torment of sleep, harmlessly dreaming of each other across the cosmos. Neither had what would be described as perfect sleep, it was more like experiencing hell with your eyes closed. Amy's faint cries in the dead of night were not enough to worry Rory; he'd grown accustomed to the sounds echoing around the too-large house. Normally, her wails would relate to some terrifying recount of the day her Doctor had forced her out of the TARDIS. However, tonight her dreams were much more high-spirited, and for once she didn't want to wake up.

The dream was extraordinarily simplistic, and contained nothing more than the Doctor and her curled up on her bed in the TARDIS. Amy was convinced she could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of her neck, the double throb of his hearts in his chest as they merely existed alongside each other.

The Doctor's dream was similar, far too similar to just be coincidence. There was an underlying psychic link that connected him and Amy. All it had taken was a week apart to establish a strong enough connection to keep them together, even when it seemed impossible. The Doctor, being the frivolous, wondrous man he was, was not designed for such trivial things as falling in love, yet here he was, dreaming of the woman who had coveted his two hearts.

He didn't want them to belong to anyone else but her.

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

Rory stared at Amy – _or what was left of her_. The girl he'd fallen for all those years ago wasn't who was sat in front of him now. His Amy would never consider herself to be associated with this new model. He knew he could never hate Amy, but he hate what she'd become. The Doctor had stolen away her very essence with no good intention of doing anything with it. Anger bubble deep in the pit of Rory's stomach. Why had she chosen to run off with him when she knew very well that it would only ever end badly? Was life with him really that bad?

Reluctantly, Amy nibbled at the toast Rory had prepared for her. Her senses were going crazy, but her appetite was not. She had no desire to eat; there was nothing to eat for. Amy had no motivation to live anymore. Yes, the Doctor had returned for her before, but she couldn't take any more of this loneliness. It was slowly tearing her apart.

Discarding her surprisingly empty plate on the kitchen table, Amy retreated to the apparent safety of her bedroom. Careful not to disturb anything, she hadn't touched anything. Her hands swung limply at her sides, her fingers twitching to go through the boxes upon boxes of her childhood memories. _Correction: __**childhood memory**_. All those boxes would ever contain was her raggedy Doctor. Amy was particularly good at blocking out painful memories such as her non-existent childhood, but not even she was strong enough to obstruct the certain onslaught of emotion.

The TARDIS whirred in soft contention as the Doctor tapped in a random location code. He needed to get away, anywhere in the universe was better than this great empty box without Amy.

"Come on old girl," He whispered to the glowing console. "Where should we go?" He dragged a laborious finger across the console, letting his wonder box take him anywhere in the universe. Instead of the normal excitement flooding his too-heavy heart, he seemed sadder than ever. His mind conjured up fantastic memories of his ginger companion's smile, spreading across her face as the anticipation took hold. He thought his memories would make him feel more composed.

In reality, he'd never felt so devastatingly alone.

The Doctor allowed his eyes to roam around the control room so he couldn't see where the TARDIS was taking him. There was a certain thrill to the entire business of it, it wasn't a feeling you could quite forget, but it had definitely dimmed compared to the past. He hoped that she hadn't taken him anywhere near Earth, he doubted he could handle merely being on the same planet as Amy.

The metallic thud his shoes made as he dragged his sorry self to the door echoed around the too-large, too-lonely room. Still, he had no clue where the TARDIS had deposited him. Secretly, he was hoping for the Rhaeadron, he still had unfinished business to attend to. But, that could wait until he'd seen what waited for him outside those doors. The TARDIS buzzed with an odd thrill that seemed to seep from the central column. His old girl was clearly happy about something, and that meant a whole world of dread for the Doctor. When your time machine started getting excited, you knew something serious was happening outside its doors.

Apprehensively, the Doctor poked his head out of the TARDIS door. He sniffed the air suspiciously, recognising the atmosphere as that of Earth's. If the TARDIS could, she'd be chuckling to herself now, pleased that her plan was coming together. Even without a living, physical form, she could sense the depression weighing down on her Timelord. He was ruined without his Amy Pond, and his fabulous machine would do anything to put a smile on his old, weary face.

"Oh you-" The Doctor sighed, beginning to retreat back to the console. The TARDIS was having none of it, locking her controls so he'd be forced to step outside.

"Please. I'm not ready." He whimpered, getting the sense of _just what part_ of Earth lay outside the TARDIS doors.

He knew he'd recognised the atmosphere. Not because it belong to Earth. No.

It belonged to Leadworth, England.

Amelia Pond's back garden, to be more precise.

Amy was oblivious to the guest in her garden as she sat cross legged on her floor, staring at the thread-bare carpet. A candle burned dimly in front of her, providing the only light in the room. She had her back to the closed door, so if Rory walked in he wouldn't be able to see what she was doing. Slowly, she counted the scars on her left arm. Nineteen of them. Each one was a painful reminder of the days she'd been left behind. Amy's twisted logic stated that if she could reroute the pain from her heart to her arm, it may become bearable. And thus, at midnight every night for the past nineteen days, Amy had bought the blade to her wrist.

She eyed the clock on her desk, watching the seconds tick away. _11:59_. Breathing deeply, Amy began to prepare herself. The razor blade she'd borrowed from her bathroom cabinet sat in front of her crossed legs, illuminated by the candlelight. She had not got round to cleaning off the blood from last night's wound, as it clung to the blade. She grimaced, knowing it would make it more painful.

_Anything to get rid of this heartache, for however brief a time._

The Doctor edged along the hallway towards Amy's creaking staircase, his hearts going at triple the rate they should. Just above his head slept the amazing, beautiful Amelia Pond. He could barely wait to be reunited with her after what felt like so long apart. Even if no words were spoken, he felt like his hearts would explode at the sight of her.

Amy sighed, _ten seconds to go_. Lifting the blade in her numb fingers, she placed it on her forearm. _Six, five, four, three, two…_ Painstakingly slowly, she began to apply pressure.

"Amy?"

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><p><em>And that, my beauties, is what my mind has been screaming for ever since Monday! <em>

_Honestly hope you guys enjoyed it, I always feel like the second chapter never lives up to the first! If you liked it, or there's anything you didn't like, tell me in a review? Virtual hugs from Gillan if you do!_

**_Maddie,_**


	3. Chapter III

_Well hello there! How much do you love me for updating this rather quickly? (Excuse my weirdness, but it **is** 22:48) _

I went a bit italic-happy in this one, and I really think I've not followed up Chapter II very well.

**I don't own Doctor Who as ever,_ unless Moffat dies and leaves it to me in his will. Steven, if you read this_.**

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><p>Amy let the cold blade slip through her numb fingers, it hit the carpet with a metallic thud. She knew she was insane, but imagining his voice was a new experience entirely. Slowly, she peered out of the corner of her eye - the once place you never want to look - ready to face the disappointment of an empty space. A tear rolled over her cheek as she noticed the pair of awkward legs that stood not three feet from her. Amy looked up through her now wet eyelashes, her breath catching in her throat as she spotted the wonky, red bowtie nestled at his collar. The beautiful curve of his chin was just illuminated by the dim candlelight, his cheekbones highly pronounced by the sharp shadow they cast. She saved his eyes for last, knowing that they'd be what tipped her over the edge. The familiar crease of the corner of his eyes made her heart pick up, she watched in awe as tears began to spill.<p>

There were enough teardrops being shed to create a waterfall.

"Amelia?" The Doctor's voice was breathy where he was trying not to cry. "Is that you?" He had to ask, because, well, he couldn't quite believe it. His Amelia would never feel she had to hurt herself to continue in life. His Amelia would never dare, in fear that she'd hurt someone else. Harsh reality fell around him. His Amelia wasn't there anymore, she'd disappeared the second he'd decided to take her home. She just didn't exist without him. Why had he not realised sooner? He could have saved so much heartache.

Amy was going to snap at the wonderful man for using her full name, but when his voice had been missing from her life for twenty days, she'd take what she could get. Besides, she hadn't got enough energy to do anything but sit and stare. It felt like the blood draining from her wrist was taking her soul with her. Twenty withdrawals and she wasn't there anymore.

"No," She said weakly. "I'm not me a-anymore."

Amy stood on weak legs so she could get a better view of the Doctor. His face was definitely the same, his body was definitely the same. But something about those eyes was painfully different. They were no longer bright, but dim and depressing. Had being apart from her done that? Or was she not as important as she hoped she was? She reached out with an injured arm, delicately pressing her fingers against his cheek.

So, he was definitely real.

"Amy?" The Doctor asked again, cupping her face gently in his hands, staring feverishly into her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"No." She said waveringly. "No." More firmly this time.

"Is it your arm?" He inquired, taking a hand from her face and pressing it lightly against her wrist, examining it.

"No." Her Scottish accent seeped through - Oh how he'd missed her voice. "Why did you do it again?"

Whatever strength there had been in her voice had been demolished by the question.

"You promised me. You promised you'd never leave again." She said in a low, accusing voice. "So, why?"

The Doctor didn't like the feeling her question stirred inside of him, so he dismissed it like she'd never asked.

"You need rest. Lie down, Amy." The Doctor gestured to her bed, willing her to go.

"Answer me," She demanded weakly, refusing to give in that easily.

"Amy."

"Doctor."

"...Amy, please. You're basically a dead girl walking. Go to sleep."

"Doctor."

They both knew he was going to win. He always did. They stared at each other for a few moments, debating silently. Then, for a few more moments, they just got lost in each other's eyes.

Slowly, Amy retreated to the comfort and warmth of her bed, never taking her eyes off of the Doctor, who pulled up a chair, ready to sit the night out by her side. It was a struggle for Amy to keep her eyes open from the second she'd laid her head on the pillow.

"Amelia Pond," The Doctor said in a much softer voice than any Amy had ever heard before. He carefully brushed a hair away from her forehead before pressing his lips against it. "My Amelia Pond. I promise I'm not going anywhere."

His lips against her skin made Amy smile faintly. She grasped onto his hand and pulled it close to her, intent on not ever letting go.

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

1829 seconds later, and the Doctor was convinced that Amy was far away from Leadworth, caught up in her own little dream. It made his hearts flutter when her brow creased in confusion, or she smiled. If ever such a perfect time existed, now was it. He could pour his whole heart out of his mouth, spilling every last detail of how he felt about her, and she'd never even remember. _It's now or never_.

"Can I choose never?" He whispered to himself, scared at _just how much_ there was to say.

"No, don't be a wimp!"

"But…!" The Doctor launched into his own monologue, his voice raising ever so slightly with each syllable. Amy stirred in her sleep, and the Doctor froze, biting his tongue.

"See what you did there? You almost woke her up!" He said furiously to himself.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the Doctor sighed. _Be a man. Do it._

He squeezed Amy's hand gently, feeling the oh-so-human throb of her blood underneath the flesh.

"I remember the first time I met you," He began, murmuring in Amy's ear. "You were a feisty little Scottish girl in an English village who was dead scared of the crack in her bedroom wall. You told me I was worse than your aunt, to which I replied 'I'm worse than everybody's Aunt'. Do you remember that Pond? Of course you do, how could you forget a mad man falling on your shed in a big blue box?"

The Doctor laughed, a soft noise that mainly came through his nose.

"Then I left, told you'd I'd be five minutes. So what did you do? Little Amelia ran back upstairs to pack her things, ready to go see inside my box. Life must've been… bad, right? To be so eager to escape. You didn't know me, what I could've done to you. Obviously I wouldn't have done anything but show you the universe, but you still took that risk."

He paused, glancing at Amy to make sure he hadn't woken her. She was still breathing delicately through her slightly ajar lips, soft snores signalling your sleep.

"And then I came back and you weren't Amelia anymore. But you were still feisty, and that hair!" He reminisced in the adoration he'd had for her hair before she'd knocked him out with a cricket bat. Again, another laugh escaped. "Your hair is gorgeous, like you." He softened a little, getting side-tracked as he imagined her face in his head, all the perfect angles and shapes.

"You knocked me out with a cricket bat."

The Doctor could still feel the lump that particular knock had left him.

"I thought you were a real policewoman at first. How did I not notice the obvious fake radio? I must've been rendered incompetent by your eyes. You have that affect sometimes, well, most of the time. Well, all of the time."

Again with the side-tracking, the Doctor seemed to get lost in his own little _Amy_ universe.

"Then you went into that room. I could've died Amy, I was so scared. I specifically told you not to go in there, but there you went, being your feisty, headstrong self."

The Doctor's new favourite word for Amy was definitely _feisty_.

"You had me in handcuffs- Handcuffs! Imagine if Prisoner Zero had killed you then… How would I have ever lived with myself? I barely managed the past twenty days; imagine what a Time lord lifespan would've done to me? It would destroy me. It _will_ destroy me if I ever lose you again."

Keeping her eyes firmly shut, Amy winced, hoping it wasn't noticeable. If the Doctor realised she was listening he'd stop talking, and she wanted to hear where his rambles lead to. It seemed so natural to hear his voice, it resonated through here with such a frequency that it made her heart go at double-speed. His hand still lay in hers; the feel of his skin against hers was delicious. In her head Amy imagined his expression now, a melancholy smile probably painted across his face, his eyes downcast and regretful.

"Why did you do that to yourself?" The Doctor breathed as he caught sight of the scars on her arm. He wanted to drag his fingers across the slashes and make them disappear. They were a part of her now, a part that he'd caused.

"Was it me? Or am I not that important?" He chuckled sadly. "If it was… I'm so sorry Amy. So, so sorry."

Even under her façade of sleep, she could almost see the tears glazing in his eyes. All Amy wanted to do was wake up and throw her arms around him. She didn't care that he'd hurt her more than she thought ever possible, all that mattered to her was that he was here now, telling her how much he cared. She could listen forever.

"When you wake up, I'm making you promise that you won't hurt yourself ever again."

_And I'm making you promise that you're never leaving again_, Amy stated in her head.

2100 seconds had passed now, and the Doctor was no closer to reaching his conclusion. It would take him all the aeons that would ever happen to sum up what he felt about Amy. He only had another hour before she woke up. Running frustrated fingers through his hair, he glanced down the length of Amy, mostly hidden by the quilts. A blush crept across his cheeks as the desire to crawl in beside her overwhelmed in.

_Control yourself, Doctor_._ She's married, remember?_

_**Didn't stop you telling her you loved her**_.

Amy listened intently as he continued to spin the tale of him and her, his voice occasionally rising or falling in volume, depending on how happy the recollection was.

Suddenly, his normally lightning-fast tempo slowed. His breaths seemed shakier than normal. This was it, she knew it. Ignoring the twists her heart made, she made sure her breathing was as silent as possible. Prepared to commit the words to memory, she waited.

"And Amy, I guess what I've been trying to tell you for the past," He paused, working out how many minutes he'd been talking for. "For the past 2,700 seconds is that…"

_Oh come on! Just say it!_ Amy thought impatiently. _No, shut up Pond!_ She silenced her thoughts.

"I love you very, very much."

"I love you, too."

The Doctor nearly had a heart attack _-__ multiple heart attacks – _when Amy's eyes snapped open. He felt his jaw hit the floor with shock.

"P-Pond?" He stammered, his hearts going at triple speed _again_.

Amy batted her eyelashes innocently, smiling at the absolutely fantastic expression on his face. If her eyes were cameras, she'd have a whole album of that expression by now. It wasn't very often it came about; Amy had discovered it was very difficult to surprise the Doctor.

"Gotcha," She winked at him.

She noticed his hand quivering in hers. Wow, she'd got him good and proper this time.

"Yeah." He agreed. "You got me." The Doctor half-smiled at her, his eyes shining.

Amy's heart did at least a triple flip in her chest. She heaved herself up, her head spinning momentarily.

No words were spoken after that, just a buzz of emotions and electricity in the air. Neither could summon the words they needed to describe the feeling, so they let their eyes speak for them. To somebody watching, it was painfully obvious that the pair were deeply in love with each other.

Somebody like Rory.

Being lost in each other, the Doctor and Amy didn't hear Rory's footfalls as he crossed the landing from one of the many rooms in Amy's house. Somehow he hadn't heard the Doctor's confessions and recollections, and was oblivious to the fact he was even here. Rory simply thought that Amy was lying alone, dreaming of a happier time. _A time before the Doctor had ruined her_.

He felt his heart drop through to his feet when he noticed the familiar untamed brown hair sitting beside Amy.

The Doctor craned his neck around – the first time breaking his stare from Amy for a good 300 seconds – to see what the disturbance was. His stomach twisted in surprise.

"Again with the heart attacks!" The Doctor muttered under his breath. "Rory!" He exclaimed whilst trying to come up with a valid reason as to why he was staring passionately into his wife's eyes.

Rory didn't look so impressed.

"How are you? Taking care of Amelia, I see." His tone sounded fake, even to him.

Rory's cold stare cut into him, deeper than it should have. It bothered the Doctor, not much, but it did. His expression was unforgiving, and he had definitely worked it out.

"Am I interrupting something?" His voice was cold, unforgiving. Either he didn't care, or he was a hell of an actor. Something about the way his eyes seemed to die a little gave him away. _Oh god_, Amy and the Doctor thought simultaneously. _He wasn't meant to find out this way_.

"Rory, let me ex-"

"You don't need to explain, I think it's pretty clear what's going on here. Thanks a bunch Doctor," He directed his venomous words in the Time lord's direction. "You nearly kill my wife, then just… come back for her? Look what you did to her! Look at how you hurt her! Look!" Rory's furious words brought tears to the eyes of everyone in the room, especially Amy.

She couldn't bear to watch her husband and her Doctor fight, even if it was as one-sided as this.

_Fight back!_ She thought. _Don't just sit there and take this!_

But obviously, he would.

She'd known the Doctor for all of her life, and yes she'd seen him lose his temper. He would shout and curse in that beautiful, ancient language of his. But never, _ever_, was he silent.

Rory's words became softer suddenly, a change the Doctor or Amy wasn't expecting.

"If you're going to do this to me, at least have the decency to hold on to her next time. You break her heart once more and the Time lords will cease to exist."

The Doctor took his threat _very_ seriously.

"I won't hurt her again." He muttered to the floor. "I promise."

The Doctor wasn't sure if he was promising Rory, or promising himself. But it was a promise, and he was determined to keep it.

Rory sighed, a heavy, heartbroken sigh. "Amy. You have to be sure about this before I just walk out."

The words _walk out_ from Rory's mouth sounded foreign to Amy. She wasn't ready to make this decision!

Both the Doctor and Rory anticipated her answer. After what felt like more than the ten seconds it had been, Amy replied.

"I'm sure."

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><p>Here you go dearies! I apologise for the lack of greatness in this chapter - all the bloody speech! I hate stories with tonnes of speech, but I couldn't think of anything cuter than the Doctor trying to explain his feelings, so tahdah!<p>

Now, be dolls and hit the review button? Pretty please? (LOL, i'm desperate, think I can get to twentyfive reviews by friday? MAKE IT HAPPEN, A HUG FROM THE BATMAN MATT SMITH IF IT HAPPENS).

And I'd like to say a thank you to the anonymous reviews I got from _Page_ and _Doctorlvr_ - would've loved to have been able to message you a thankyou, but yeah... I reply to review guys, or I try to. Just another reason to hit the button.

**As always,**

**Maddie,**


	4. Chapter IV

Hello! This chapter's a bit happier towards the end, so enjoy it? I do enjoy being angsty, but happy's good once in a while, right? ;)

**I don't own anything, that's the moff's job**

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><p>Rory blinked back his surprise.<p>

And again.

The Doctor let out a sigh of relief, and Rory's eyes darted back to him. The Doctor couldn't bear to look into Rory's eyes, fearing the emotion that would be harbouring there. His shoulders tensed as Amy slipped her fingers in between his, the shock of her soft skin was both delicious and a curse. Rory didn't deserve this heartbreak, he had done nothing to ever upset Amy and he would always be the better option. It almost angered the Doctor that Amy had been stupid enough to let Rory go for him. Could she not see the blatant truth, or did she just choose not too?

Without saying another word, Rory backed out of the room, and out of Amy's life. Suddenly Amy felt very ill, not wanting her last memory of Rory to be of him looking that defeated. Tearing her hand from the Doctor's she leapt after him, running down the stairs to catch him before the door slammed shut.

"Rory!" Her voice cracked on the second syllable. "Don't go like this!"

He hesitated; hearing her voice for what could be the last time. In that hesitation Amy flung her arms around Rory's shoulders, capturing him so he couldn't leave yet.

"You have to let me explain first."

"I'm not really in a position to say no, am I?"

Amy winced at the horrifically sad tone of his voice.

"I do love you Rory,"

He scoffed.

"-But it's always been him. I tried, I really, really did. I tried so hard. If he hadn't come back…"

"But he did." Rory struggled out of her grip and turned, ready to flee. _Just go Rory, you're only in the way of the happy couple_. "So goodbye Amy." Rory whispered over his shoulder, disappearing into the night. It would have been perfectly easy for Amy to run after him, but truth be told she knew he was right. She didn't need to hurt him anymore with her tales of the false love they'd shared. Amy had already done enough damage.

Her feet felt like lead bricks attached to the end of her legs as she dragged her sobbing frame back to where the Doctor waited for her. He hadn't moved from the chair, too stunned to summon the energy. His eyes left the floor and met hers, neither wanting to say anything.

_He's gone, isn't he?_ The Doctor mouthed.

Amy nodded.

The corners of the Doctor's mouthed tugged down a little, he was saddened by Rory's sudden departure, but he couldn't blame him. He had just found out that his long-term love was totally smitten by another man. Not even a Time lord was strong enough for that one. The Doctor just hoped he'd never need to be.

"Doctor?" Amy asked weakly. "Can I go home now?"

In one swift moment the Doctor had risen from his chair, and was standing within inches of Amy. "Of course," He whispered in her ear, brushing his lips over her beautiful, fiery hair.

Before leaving her bedroom, Amy slipped the wedding ring off of her finger and placed it back in the box that still sat on her desk, untouched for however long she'd been gone. She wouldn't need it anymore. The Doctor watched as she snapped the small velvet box shut, his hearts feeling heavy.

Amy felt the sound pulsing through her ears as she locked the door to her _too big_ house. _So many rooms_. The metal of the key seemed to burn through her hand, and she wanted nothing more than to just throw it into the shrubbery.

_I am never coming back here_.

_**I am never bringing her back here**_, the Doctor thought at the same time.

Amy laced her fingers with the Doctor's as he escorted her back to the TARDIS. He had definitely missed the feeling of her hand in his far too much. It felt as natural as existing to have Amy by his side, even easier than breathing. The Doctor peeked at her out of the corner of his eye, and his hearts nearly imploded at the expression on her face.

Amy's eyes were set in absolutely terrible sadness, her smile barely there. The Doctor stopped walking, much to Amy's confusion, and wrapped his arms around her in the tightest, most comforting hug he could muster. She fit into his arms perfectly, their bodies pressed together in a tight line.

"What was that for?" Amy whispered when she'd been released by the Time lord. Her smile grew slightly, and her eyes seemed to brighten.

"No reason." The Doctor grinned, glad to see that his Amy was slowly coming back to him. "Now, let's get you inside, you look like you're about to freeze."

Amy promptly agreed, not because she was cold – only wearing a thin nightie – but because she wanted so badly to be back in that fabulous box again.

The doors swung open as they approached, and despite the desolate emotion she should've been feeling, Amy could barely contain her excitement as she made her way into the control room.

_Welcome home, Amelia Pond_.

The Doctor leant against the barriers of the control room, observing Amy as she touched everything on the TARDIS console. To her it had been an entire lifetime since she'd been in this room, and she didn't particularly want to remember the last time. He restrained himself from sprinting to her and stopping her from tweaking with something vital on the console, not wanting to ruin her fun.

"Doctor?" Amy called over her shoulder, unable to tear herself away from the console.

"Yes, Amelia?" He replied softly, pacing across the control room to stand behind her. His warm breath tickled her neck.

She turned to face him, and the words that had been ready on her lips evaporated. _He was looking at her like that again_.

The Doctor smirked; glad he could still have such an effect.

He captured her lips softly, seizing the opportunity perfectly. "I miss you." He whispered against her lips. Amy's hands rested limply on his chest, feeling the twin heartbeats under his skin. Ever so gently, Amy knotted her fingers into his pale blue shirt, pulling at the material to get at what was underneath.

For once, the Doctor didn't stop her.

Amy continued to tug at the delicate fabric as their lips brushed across each other. Amy's heartbeat had sped to an alarming rate, and she was beginning to get carried away. Her pale fingers wrapped around the corners of his deep blue – almost black – bowtie. She needed it out of the way.

"Not the bowtie," The Doctor warned, pulling away from her briefly. "You know I'm very fond of my bowties Amy, not just anyone can go taking them off." The Doctor smiled devilishly.

_She's not just anyone._

"One day, you'll realise how much of a dork you look with those blasted things." Now it was Amy's turn to smile, and the Doctor's hearts flipped in his chest.

"Me? A dork?" He put a hand over one of his hearts in mock pain. "I'm hurt."

Giggles erupted from both the Doctor and Amy.

She poked at the bowtie, grinning. "Totally, one-hundred-per-cent dorky." She tapped his nose with a light finger. "But you're my dork."

Despite the comment meaning to sound intolerably cute, Amy's tone was serious.

"Too right I am," The Doctor's smile only grew as he pressed his lips against her forehead lightly.

His arms enclosed Amy's waist as her own arms draped around his neck. The hug seemed more of a gentle squeeze than a passionate embrace, but that was all they needed. The Doctor tucked Amy's head under his chin and held on to her as tightly as he could. If it meant she would never leave again, he was content with never letting go.

The TARDIS whirred impatiently, breaking the pair apart.

"Yes dear, sorry dear," The Doctor muttered, inputting the location code into the console. He didn't care where they were going, preferably somewhere romantic. Knowing his TARDIS, 'romantic' translated as 'you've got to run for your life'.

"You know what to do dear," He whispered to the console, stroking it in the way somebody would stroke their pet cat.

"Do you two need a moment alone?" Amy joked.

"She's feeling a bit iffy, that's all," The Doctor hadn't sensed the humour in Amy's question as he continued to fuss over his TARDIS. "What's wrong dear? Yes, I know about her arm, just tell me what's wrong."

Amy glanced at her arm, the scars exposed.

"Yes, it's my fault."

Amy's eyes snapped to the Doctor, he stayed staring at the console. She could imagine the pain and regret in his eyes, it hurt to think of it. She joined him at the console, placing her hand on his. His skin felt colder than usual, clammy, almost.

He turned his head, his sad eyes meeting hers.

_It's not your fault_. Amy tried to channel the statement into her gaze.

"Yes, yes it is." His reply was soft, yet brutally honest. "I'm so terribly sorry Amy,"

She silenced him with a quick kiss. "You don't need to apologise."

"Look at what I did to you." He said, distressed. The Doctor winced as he rested his fingers over her scars, trying to hide them. He wished they'd sink back into her skin, destroying the evidence of the hurt _he _had caused.

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

Amy stared at the room, watching intently as the Doctor gathered her things, ready to move into a different room. Of course, she'd offered to help, but in his current state of mind the Doctor was prepared to do anything to apologise to Amy. He hauled a bag of her clothes over his shoulder, holding it there with one hand. With the other he waved Amy out of the doorway.

"What room am I moving to exactly? What's wrong with this one?"

"You'll see Pond, you'll see." The Doctor called back to her, answering her first question and ignoring her second.

Amy threw her hands up in annoyance. _When will that man ever answer me properly?_

The Doctor didn't seem to notice Amy's annoyance as he continued to storm down the TARDIS corridors excitedly. Amy would be the first human – the first _anyone_ – to lay eyes on this room. He couldn't wait.

Amy struggled to keep up with the Doctor, who was now a good twenty feet ahead of her. The feeling of having to run to catch up with him felt very familiar. Normally, this would be where he shouted 'Come along, Pond!' – but the Doctor was too preoccupied with finding the right door that he'd nearly forgotten about his ginger companion chasing after him.

His gangly, awkward frame disappeared around a corner, and Amy had to pick up the pace before she lost him in the matrix of corridors. _Imagine getting lost in here, you'd never be found again_.

She bounded the corner, nearly slipping on the suddenly slick floors. Obviously, the Doctor enjoyed running around his TARDIS like a loon. It sounded utterly him to do so. She found her magic man leaning against the corridor wall, her bag of clothes set on the floor next to him. He peered up through his floppy brown hair at her, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

"You ready Pond?" He offered her his hand, which she promptly took.

"Ready for what?"

"Nobody's ever seen this room before Amy, feel special." He pulled her towards the door, which was an interesting shade of, naturally, TARDIS blue.

"I'm special?" Amy grinned.

"Only the specialist, most brilliant person ever!" The excitement in his voice rose.

He was about to reveal a part of himself that he'd never let anyone see before, and instead of being horrifically nervous, he was rather enjoying the sensation.

"Welcome, Amelia Pond to my," _Our – _he corrected mentally, "bedroom."

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><p>I just discovered that I have lost the copy of chapter three on my system, I overrode it with this chapter!<p>

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Keep the reviews coming? I'm too tired to write anymore, as it's 23:26 - but it's Rory + Amy's one year anniversary today!

**Virtual hugs, dearies,**

**Maddie,**


	5. Chapter V

Hello beautiful people! Firstly, I'm sorry about how long this took! I've had a major case of the writer's block and such. I'm using the four gigs in two weeks excuse ;)

THIRTY SIX REVIEWS! Aw yeah, I love each and every one of you. You took your own time to write about my story, so I couldn't love you more!

Time for some shameless promotion - I changed my tumblr URL from _youwontfindfaith_ to _still-notginger._ Go check the blog guys!

_As always, **I don't own anything**_**, **_that's the Moff's honour._

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><p>The first thing Amy noticed was the lack of furniture. The second thing was the amount of useless clutter that made up for it. She could barely see the threadbare TARDIS blue carpet – Amy presumed it was so warn out from the pacing the Doctor seemed to have a habit of. She had the perfect image of him wandering over this spot over and over, a look of confusion set on his marvellous face. A grin played on Amy's lips.<p>

"Something funny, Pond?"

Amy shook her head, continuing into the depths of the Doctor's room. She passed endless pieces of paper, some blueprints for screwdrivers and some just general nonsense you wouldn't expect from anyone but the Doctor. All of them lay discarded on the floor, crumpled into almost non-existence. Again, the image of the Doctor hunched over his desk, perfecting the latest regeneration of his sonic screwdriver echoed in Amy's mind. Amy was almost glad she hadn't witnessed that, it probably involved a lot of stress and _choice words_.

Amy glanced across the bookshelf that spanned the far wall, endless worn out spines pressed against each other. She wondered how many times the Doctor had mused over the words, manipulating them over and over again.

Amy was just about to comment on how very _him_ the room was, when an odd shape caught her eye.

"What, Doctor, is that?" She spluttered, trying not to laugh, pointing at the bed pushed up against the wall.

"It's a bunk bed." The Doctor said defensively from behind her, dropping her bag on the blue carpeted floor. "Bunk beds, Pond, are cool." Leaving the discarded bag, he sprung towards her and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind; trying to spin her round like he'd seen in those shockingly cheesy Earth films.

Amy shrieked, feeling her feet being pulled from the floor. "Doctor?" She squealed, feeling her stomach contract at the sudden movement. "Put me down!"

The Doctor chuckled to himself. "Not until you admit bunk beds are cool."

Amy sighed – halfway annoyed, and halfway stunned that the Doctor was brave enough.

_What has he been watching to make his impossible head think this is a good idea?_

"You're such a child," Amy grinned. "Now put me down!"

The Doctor's grip only tightened. By now, a human man would've given in, in fear of their girlfriend beating them up later. But not the Doctor, oh no.

"Not a chance Pond. Admit it," His voice was light with excitement. Feeling extremely brave, he tickled her gentle, sending her thrashing. The Doctor laughed with Amy, amused that she was so sensitive to the way he moved his fingers.

_I'll use that against you one day Pond, just wait_. His grin grew devilishly.

He tickled her again, unable to contain his laughter as she squirmed in his arms. The Doctor was enjoying this far too much.

"Doc- Doctor!" Amy managed to squeal between thrashes. "Stop with the tickling!" Giggles bubbled over her lips.

"Say it," He teased.

"You win! Bunk beds are cool?" Amy was breathless from the amount of laughter, and she was pretty sure she'd ruptured something in her side.

"Better." The Doctor began to loosen his grip, but still had his arms wrapped firmly around her.

"You are so dead." Amy muttered, trying not to smile like a child. Feeling somewhat safer, she leant into the Doctor's embrace.

"Is that a threat or a promise?" The Doctor smiled, kissing Amy's fiery hair.

"Definitely a promise." Amy smiled as he brushed his lips over the crown of her head.

"Should I be terrified?" He teased.

Amy wriggled in his arms, turning to face him with a huge ear-to-ear grin on her face. "Absolutely." She tapped his nose with the tip of her finger.

The Doctor smirked, leaning in to crash his lips against hers. It seemed like the perfect moment - but in the Doctor's head every moment was the perfect moment when he was kissing Amy. Yes, he'd kissed other people before. No, nothing had ever been as fantastic as the sensation of his lips moving against Amy's. He poured his soul into the kiss, the mood of the room suddenly becoming very tense and intimate. The Doctor's mind was in shambles, words floating around in his head. He tried to string together sentences that proclaimed his love, but nothing seemed to get half the message across. There were no words, not in English, Gallifreyan or any other language in the universe that could describe such a feeling.

Whispers of the Doctor's thoughts began to come together as he kissed her. Long trails of complicated words twisted themselves together. Almost immediately, Amy could tell that the Doctor's mind was somewhere else other than here, kissing her. She pulled back, grateful for the rush of oxygen to her lungs. His look of absolute devotion had evolved into a gaze of realisation and regret. Amy's heart spiked - What had she done wrong?

"Doctor?" She prompted, wishing for a harmless response from the Time lord. His lips twitched, the corners tugging into a frown. Amy hated seeing him like this - seemingly so upset, yet not telling her anything.

"You're dying."

The words were soft, filled with regret.

"You're going to die before I am." He smiled sadly, trying to get rid of the emotion. "Long before I am."

"So?" Amy browns knotted together in confusion. Why did he always have to ruin the mood by bringing their species difference into it? "What does that matter?"

"You can spend the rest of your life with me Amy."

Amy touched his cheek. "I intend too."

He sighed. "But I can't spend the rest of mine with you."

The words were like a blow straight though Amy's heart.

"You don't live forever." The Doctor explained simply, placing his hand lightly over Amy's, pressing it lightly against his cheek. "I do."

"Is there nothing you can do? What about – what about what Liz 10 did?" Amy spluttered, suddenly overwhelmed by the thought of the Doctor living on without her. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she was too tired to do anything about it.

"Amy, you're exhausted. We can discuss this later, just get some sleep." The Doctor looked at her through thick eyelashes, willing her to agree.

"I'm not sleeping in a bunk bed." Amy muttered under her breath. To the Doctor's amazement, she turned slowly, ready to retreat. He noticed her smile a little when she realised the bunk bed had been replaced by a very simplistic double bed.

_That_, Amy thought,_ is more like it_. She dragged herself across the room, sinking gratefully into the sheets.

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

Amy slept seemingly peacefully, settled deep into the TARDIS-blue sheets. Battling the urge to sleep himself, the Doctor kept his eyes trained on her hair, which knotted in flames down her neck. His fingers twitched in desire, wanting to manipulate the strands into the most beautiful style he could manage.

"Amy," he whispered, making sure she was actually asleep. Not even a soft grunt escaped her lips, and the Doctor presumed she was far away.

Ever so delicately he began to untangle her hair, trying to make his movements as gentle as possible. Amy tensed slightly, making the Doctor catch his breath. After a painfully slow few seconds, her shoulders relaxed and the Doctor resumed tugging carefully at her hair. The stark contrast of his pallid skin and her copper tufts was almost enough to give him a headache.

Subconsciously he began to braid her hair, weaving the beautiful strands between his fingers skilfully. Had Amy been awake, she would've been astounded by how daintily his fingers wrapped around each other, creating such an intricate knot. The Doctor breathed through his nose, his tongue poking out from his thin lips in utter concentration. His eyes narrowed on Amy's neck as he noticed the purple patch of skin. Under normal circumstances he would've woken Amy immediately to interrogate her.

Tonight he wasn't feeling so cruel.

He brushed his lips against what he presumed to be a harmless bruise, being ever so careful not to hurt her.

"You're so clumsy, Pond." The Doctor whispered, the sweet taste of her skin making his lips tingle.

The muscle buried beneath her flesh tightened, like she could feel his words sinking to her core. Amy wrestled in her dreams, feeling his words work deep inside her head.

"Hairband!" The Doctor suddenly whispered, wanting to whack his hand against his forehead for his forgetfulness. He clasped his fingers around the end of the braid in Amy's hair, making sure it didn't unravel. It was impossible to spot anything in the darkness as the Doctor spun his head round, attempting not to disturb Amy.

"I worked hard on you!" He whispered playfully yet angrily to Amy's hair. "There is no way I'm letting you get away with this!"

"…Doctor?" Amy mumbled, shifting.

The Doctor breathed in sharply. "No! Amy! Don't move!" A few strands fell out of his fingers.

"What?" Amy froze, always expecting the worst.

The Doctor couldn't help but giggle at her worried expression. "I need a hairband." His statement radiated seriousness.

"What?" Amy repeated, just as confused. She lifted a sleepy hand and felt the ridge of the braid across the back of her head. Staring at the Doctor accusingly, she snapped a hairband from around her wrist.

He punched the air in triumph, almost hitting Amy in the face.

"Sorry," The Doctor muttered, fixing the TARDIS blue hairband in place.

Amy watched in delight as a childish grin played on the Doctor's lips, admiring his work.

"Since when did you French braid?" The Doctor couldn't ignore the impressed tone of her voice.

"Actually-"

His response was cut off by an extremely very not good drone from the console room. He leapt from the bed, pulling half the duvet with him. It was as if a suddenly electricity had coursed through him, the panic brought on by a most horrific noise. Amy was left behind in a mist of confusion and wonder as the Doctor tore through the TARDIS corridors to the control room.

The normal echo of his shoes hitting the floor was drowned out by the squeal of the TARDIS console. Heartbeats racing already, the Doctor picked up his pace. Whatever was happening to his beloved machine was going to stop, right now.

Amy scrambled behind the Doctor, trying to catch up with him and untangle her thoughts at the same time. An urge to shake her hair out of the braid pulsed through her, it felt odd not to have the flames brushing against her shoulders as she ran. But she had yet to see it, and knowing the Doctor it was probably a work of art. Amy didn't want to hurt his feelings, so gritted her teeth and continued to run.

About ten feet ahead of her the Doctor had come to a standstill. His thoughts whirred and it was difficult to focus on anything apart from the menacing red light that leaked from behind the control room door.

"No," He whispered, stroking the door, begging to be let inside. "No. NO!" His fist made contact with the wood, making it shake in its frame. The TARDIS may have been sturdy, but nothing was strong enough for an angry Timelord. Uselessly the Doctor rattled on the doorknob, the lock groaning in protest.

The Doctor sank to his knees. His beautiful box wasn't letting him inside, whether by choice or not. Whatever was going on in there, there was nothing he could do about it. Helplessness, to the Doctor, was one of the most frustrating feelings ever. It only came second to the feeling of _alone_ – which was all too common.

_What are you thinking? You've got Amy now_.

"Not for much longer if I can't get this bloody door open!" He shouted to himself, hitting the door again unnecessarily. Normally the Doctor wouldn't dare hit his faithful old girl, but something was not right. Definitely not right.

"Doctor!" Amy's voice seemed to pass straight through him, and he didn't even turn to acknowledge her as she came beside him. Cold shot through his skull as he rested his forehead on the door, feeling utterly useless.

"What's going on?" Innocence filled Amy's tired voice. "Is something wrong?"

"You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine and you probably think they're lying to make you feel better? Amy." His eyes met hers intensely. "Amy, everything's going to be fine."

Amy inhaled sharply, immediately the memory of those words shot across her mind. Her hand wrapped around his protectively, his skin perceptively colder than normal.

"You aren't leaving me again."

He kissed her forehead lovingly, surprised that Amy even considered that he'd do that to her. _You've let her down before. She's being sensible_. A fire surged in the Doctor's hearts, a terrific pain that did nothing but remind him of the consequences of his '_oh-so-perfect_' plan.

"What gives you that idea?" His ancient fingers tightened around her incredibly young ones.

"The last time you said that line you left for twelve years. Don't do it again," The pleading tone was impossible to overlook.

_You ruined her childhood. _

The Doctor never spoke his thoughts to Amy, knowing that she'd deny them furiously. As much as he loved Amy, she would never understand how torn up he'd become over what felt like longer than his nine hundred years.

"Neither of us are going anywhere until I get into that control room." The Doctor sighed, turning back to the door, fingering at the hinges.

_Perhaps I can just pull the door off…_

The TARDIS made a noise that both Amy and the Doctor interpreted as disgust. Amy couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Whatever you've got planned, she doesn't seem to be liking it." Amy laughed.

"I was joking dear!" The Doctor said softly, trying to make his wonder box happy again. Mentally he promised to sort out the hideous thing that was hiding cowardly in the control room – he wouldn't stand for anybody trying to mess with _his_ TARDIS.

Very suddenly and unexpectedly, the light in the corridor died, submerging the Doctor and Amy in total darkness. Amy felt the colour drain from her face, straining to see the Doctor. Although he only knelt inches away from her, it was impossible to see him. The only thing keeping Amy from screaming was the sensation of his breath on her cheeks.

"Doctor, I'm scared." Amy said in a small voice.

The Doctor imagined the worry nestling on her face, making her already wide eyes even wider and her smile more nervous. Through the darkness he managed to rest his hand comfortingly against her cheek, pulling her face closer to his in order for him to see her. Timelord eyes were more adjusted to everything, and it was shockingly easy for him to see the emotion on her face.

"I'm here." Said the Doctor in a raised whisper. "You're safe."

At this statement Amy seemed content, leaning into his touch. Her pulse calmed and the nerves evaporated from them both. After all, it was only the dark.

_Almost every species in the universe has an irrational fear of the dark_.

"Hey, who turned out the lights?"

* * *

><p>Tah-dah<p>

Again, sorry this took so long! I had to delete it because I realised all the horrific mistakes! I think I got them all, if not feel free to point it out in a review? ;)

See you next chapter my beauties - message me any time you want, yeah?

Geronimo!

_**Maddie,**_


	6. Chapter VI

_Hey there!_

_Just a warning: This chapter isn't brilliant. I know it isn't. Sounds like I'm attention seeking, but I'm serious. I'm quite disappointed really._

_Never mind though, hey?_

**_Disclaimer: I don't own anything, Steven... *bats eyelashes*_**

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><p><em>Why aren't I dead yet?<em>

The instant the Doctor had heard the painfully familiar voice he had been prepared to have his flesh ripped off. However, he could still feel the tingle of Amy's breath on his shoulder. And if she was still breathing, so was he.

_We should be dead_.

"Doctor?" Amy leant into his embrace, feeling his arms around her gave her little comfort, but it was more than enough.

The Doctor brushed his lips over Amy's hair, committing the smell of her strawberry shampoo to memory. Certain that his life would be over in mere seconds, he cleared his mind of everything apart from Amy. His Amy. If he had to die here, he was going to die thinking about the only thing that was keeping him alive.

Despite the lack of words from her Timelord, Amy knew something was wrong. She could sense the panic in his lips as they grazed over her head, the emotion penetrating deep into her mind. Even if she couldn't see the danger, Amy could feel it. It was like a buzz left in the air after an electrical storm, needing to be discharged by the promise of safety and warmth. By now the Doctor would've spewed out a torrent of _'Don't worry Amy, I'll protect you_'. He remained as silent as she, seemingly waiting for something. In the total blackness it was impossible to see the expression on his face, but it was easy to imagine a look of absolute horror painted into his eyes.

"We should be dead." He whispered his thoughts out loud, his ancient eyes widening.

Very noticeably Amy stiffened in his arms. They couldn't die here! They were in the TARDIS – the _safest_ place in the universe! A soft cry escaped her. How could she ever keep the hope of survival alive when even _the Doctor_ – the most feared being there ever has and ever will be – had given up?

"What do you want?" The Doctor directed his voice into the shadows, addressing the potentially millions of demons in the air. He knew they required something of him, he simply wasn't dead yet. There were never this slow accidentally.

Abruptly the lights flashed back on, illuminating the huddled, afraid lovers. The Doctor leapt for the column of light, dragging Amy out of the killer shadows. Her frame felt so delicate, she simply wasn't ready for this kind of thing. The Doctor knew full well that had Amy known about his suspicion of her weakness he'd have received a slap in the face. Now, however, was not the time to be getting beat up by your feisty red-headed girlfriend.

Now was the time to be overthinking, confused and desperate.

_Check, check _and _check_.

The Doctor stole a quick glance at Amy's eyes, grimacing at the fear. Subconsciously his arms tightened around her, like the tighter he held her, the safer she was. Obviously, Amy noticed. She couldn't deny the fact that the Doctor's arms around her was more comforting that Rory could ever have been. It still tore at her, knowing how she'd denied him of finding someone worth loving.

Amy was never worth Rory.

"Amy, you need to stay out of the shadows." He uttered the warning under his breath, almost afraid that they could hear him.

Amy nodded, taking him very seriously. There was no room for taking things lightly in a situation like this. "Why?"

The Doctor straightened his bowtie. "Vashta Nerada. Piranhas of the air. They'll strip the flesh from your bones in seconds." There was no mistaking the fear in his voice. The normal tint of confidence in his voice was non-existent, and the horror was painted across his brow.

Her hand gripped around his, passing on her despair through the link. It was like the Doctor could feel every single emotion running through Amy, tripled. Something about the way they connected when they touched was unique; there was no other connection quite like it.

"Oh." Amy said in a small voice.

"Oh indeed."

"Any ideas?" Amy centred herself in the light without thinking. The Doctor prayed that her instincts would be enough to keep her alive.

He followed her into the centre of the light, barely shifting. The figure still loomed, waiting for another moment of darkness. They didn't have long.

"Well, I could… No, or perhaps… Hmm, maybe not…" The Doctor wasn't really talking to Amy; instead he was having an internal battle with his thoughts. _Why is it never easy to make decisions anymore? _He sighed heavily.

"Spit it out!" Amy stuttered nervously. From the corner of her eye she could see the thing, standing too far away to be a threat just yet.

"I can send out a pulse from the console, should kill them dead." The Doctor glanced at the shadows, sending venom in his stare.

"Then do it!" Amy's eyes landed on the door that waited not a foot from them. A thick barrier of shadow was all that stood in their way. "Just break the door down! She won't mind, right? I mean, it'll save…"

"You wouldn't survive the radiation." Said the Doctor bluntly. "I would, but you; you'd die in minutes." His voice was grim.

Amy's eyes fell to the floor. She didn't want this to be the end, when it had never really begun. How could someone justify the unfairness of the situation? Her raggedy Doctor had only just returned for her, now he was being snatched away again. What had she done to deserve that?

In the dying light, Amy noticed something most unusual.

"Doctor?" She whispered. "Doctor, I have two shadows."

For just a moment, if seemed like time itself had stopped.

The Doctor followed Amy's eyes to the floor, where in the little light he could plainly see two Amy-shaped shadows on the floor.

"No. No, no, NO!" The Doctor's voice hiked up a few octaves. He ran agitated fingers through his messy brown hair, an emotion he'd never known before beating through his body.

Daggers flew from his eyes as he spun to face the being, which had advanced slowly on the pair.

"Not her! Not Amy! Take me, eat _me,_ instead!" He pushed himself in between the Vashta Nerada and Amy, like it was going to save her.

Obviously, Amy wasn't very happy with this idea. "Doctor, please. Just go, do that pulse thing, just save yourself, okay?" Now was not the time for his heroics.

"I'll come back before they can hurt you Amy. I swear to you on Gallifrey's name that you will not die today." He kissed her forehead quickly.

_Now, _he thought, _I just have to get through the door and set up the spectrum and use the radiometer and that little green button – what __does that even do? __**Concentrate!**_ _It's going to drain all the power, all the lights, all everything. We'll be stuck wherever we are for a good day or so, can I risk that?_

He realised he was still standing, motionless, with his arms wrapped around Amy. _She's__ going to die any second if you don't get a move on._

Waiting for a column of light, the Doctor prepared himself.

"If you start feeling pain or anything at all, you call me. Okay? I love you, Amelia Pond."

The lights flashed on and the Doctor exploded towards the door, screwdriver at the ready.

"_Geronimo."_

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

Amy's body was tense, she dare not move in fear of the creatures that swarmed her. She could imagine them, a thousand; perhaps a million little killers grazing against her skin, waiting to rip it clean away. Cold shivers ran along the length of her, tears threatened to spill, but she had to hold it together.

_He said I had minutes to live_.

Amy's heart stuttered, beating out to a nervous tempo. A feeling of 'deserted' washed over her, and she had to convince herself that the Doctor was coming back for her. After all, he'd promised her, sworn to her by his dead planet's name. That had to mean something.

_Minutes to live, Amy. How will you spend them?_

"Amy?" The Doctor shouted from the control room, setting up the TARDIS console. "You still alive?" His face crumpled. If she were to die, he wanted to be standing by her. Even if it was mere metres that separated them, to the Doctor it may as well have been an entire universe.

Nervously, Amy gulped. "Yes." She called. "I'm still here." _For how much longer?_

"The shadows Amy, have the shadows moved?" His voice was stricken with panic.

Amy lowered her eyes, blinking away the tears. Beneath her feet the shadows had swarmed. "Three." Amy whispered softly. Catching a tear on her finger, Amy inhaled deeply. "I have three shadows."

The words stabbed straight through the Doctor's hearts. He twisted a dial on the console, racking up the radiation pulse to a billion Malcolms. He'd become fond of that measurement recently, remembering the thrill of finding someone almost as insane as him.

"I am not letting you win!" The Doctor shouted to the Vashta Nerada. "I let you go last time, you were lucky. If you knew me, if you really knew me, you'd know I don't give second chances."

Slamming down onto a red button nestled into the console, the Doctor held his breath. Slowly, a surge of radiation seeped across the room. It passed through his body easily, the cells far too robust to even be tainted. It would take about a minute for them to get around the TARDIS.

If his calculations were correct – which they always, well nearly always, were – then Amy had roughly three minutes to live before the radiation began to shut her down.

Every muscle in Amy's system contracted as the radiation passed through her. Each wave was like a hot pinprick, hurting more than the last. Around her the shadows seemed to sink away, not putting up any protest to the invisible defence mechanism that plagued the corridors. To her immediate realisation, her body put up no more of a fight than the Vashta Nerada. She could feel it slowing down, each process dying out rather rapidly.

"Doctor?" Her voice was weak, afraid.

From his position in the control room he could hear her distress. The Doctor guessed that he had two minutes to pull off something fabulous, or she died.

"Amy!" The Doctor called, sprinting through the presumably safe shadows towards his flame-haired companion. She stood as motionless as a china doll, watching as the shadows drained away. Her chest rose and fell, more sporadic gaps forming in between with each passing breath. There wasn't enough oxygen getting to her blood, it was being radiated away. This was no problem for the Doctor's Timelord anatomy; he could recycle the other substances in his blood long enough for the TARDIS to take them somewhere safe.

Amy, however, was obviously not Timelord, and would obviously not survive.

_Blood poisoning. Not enough oxygen. Simple blood transfusion might just do it. Might just, maybe, possibly, perhaps, maybe not. Worth a try._

"Come on, don't you dare do this to me." He whispered in her ear, scooping her already frail figure into his arms and bolting towards the medical bay.

The pulse may not have even penetrated deep into the TARDIS yet, but the Doctor was too impatient to wait for the shadows. Amy groaned, imagining the sensation of her blood cooling in her veins. The radiation was eating her alive, and it was hungry.

They rounded a corner of the TARDIS Amy was positive she'd never seen before, the Doctor whispering words of comfort to himself. He muttered them under his breath in a language that Amy didn't recognise. The way his lips moulded around the words was a comfort to Amy; she focussed on watching the precise movements to distract herself from whatever was going on.

The Doctor nudged the door open with his foot, his hands being full, and light spilled from the ceiling of the medical bay. Gently setting Amy down on one of the beds, he raced off to find the blood. He pretended he couldn't hear her soft whimpers; it made it so much more difficult to concentrate.

A loud thump echoed around the Doctor's empty chest as his hearts dropped to the floor. Before him was an empty fridge that normally contained every type of blood you could ever imagine, well equipped for such emergencies as these.

He threw a glance across his shoulder at Amy, her skin paling every second.

_A __Time lord's__ body is a miracle._

As the syringe delved under the Doctor's skin, he winced. It sucked the blood from his veins, leaving the scarlet liquid pooling.

_One syringe will be enough. I hope._

A spot of blood dripped onto his jacket as he raced to Amy, who by now was almost totally immobile.

"Amy, you trust me, right?"

Faintly, she nodded.

"I don't know if this will work. But it might. And I'm very, very sorry."

* * *

><p>I swear all of this has a purpose, I'm just not sure about what it is yet, haha!<p>

I hope you enjoyed this let-down of a chapter. It's a bit short, I know. But hey ho.

**And did anyone watch my Matt on Alan Carr? YES, THEY'RE BOTH FROM MY HOMETOWN, YOU HATIN'.**

Wow, I'm so cool -_-

As always, peace and love and jammy dodgers!

_Maddie,_


	7. Chapter VII

Longest chapter yet! Booyah! (I won't ever say that again...) Sorry this one took so long, I just wanted to get to a certain point in the plot. I had to think of this out of nowhere as a very clever reviewer guessed my plot. Kudos to you, either that or it was just blatantly obvious...? Anyway, here is chapter seven, I sincerely hope you enjoy it!

_**A/N: I own nothing. I never do. Honestly, you'd think you'd get the message by now!**_

Another quick note: **I BROKE FIFTY REVIEWS, AWWWWWW YEA. (insert maximum trolling face here)**

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><p>The Doctor depressed the syringe slowly, pushing the crimson fluid deep under Amy's skin. Amy was a brave girl, and tried her hardest to stop the tears from spilling over her cheeks. Memories of injections she'd had when she was only young flashed briefly across her mind, distracting her from the pain. Amy didn't want the Doctor seeing her like this, almost as much as the Doctor didn't want to see her hurt. His mind buzzed more than normal, a billion different thoughts slamming against each other in the suddenly limited space. The Doctor withdrew the needle, feeling a stab of guilt.<p>

"All right?" He asked, his voice overflowing with concern. Amy's eyes sparkled a little when she heard his voice, and obviously, the Doctor noticed.

"Fine." She croaked, putting on a brave face.

The Doctor could see straight through her mask, right into the emotion buried deep in her eyes. And it hurt him. It truly, truly hurt him.

He kissed her forehead, brushing her ginger curls out of her face and tucking them behind her ear. Her forehead was clammy and cold, a thin sheath of sweat covering it. The taste of fear lingered on the Doctor's lips. It was metallic and bitter, causing his face to twist slightly in distaste.

"You are so brave." The Doctor whispered in her ear, tears threatening to overpower him.

"You say that like… like I'm dying." Her voice cracked on the last word.

"My Amy, I say that like you're so brilliantly alive." The Doctor placed a gentle hand over Amy's heart, feeling the sickly beat beginning to regain speed.

_Please work, please God, let this work_.

For what felt like the billionth time in however long had passed, Amy found herself beyond exhausted. It was a battle to keep her eyes open, even more so to keep them trained on the Doctor. Her vision had begun to blur around the edges, and a sharp pain had begun to nestle just behind her eyes. Her head drooped, ginger curls settling on her shoulders.

The Doctor pressed his palm into Amy's, like a silent promise. "I'll be here when you wake up." The words were spoken aloud unnecessarily. To be doubly sure, Amy trapped his fingers in hers, gaining security from the contact. As long as she was here, seemingly vulnerable and immobile, her Doctor would be here to protect her. Satisfied, Amy let her eyelids droop, making sure his ancient eyes were the last thing she saw.

Never expecting anything other than a troubled sleep, Amy wrestled with her thoughts. It was giving her a headache trying to block out the persistent reminder of the pain swarming her system. Lights danced in front of her closed eyes, too bright to be calming. She wanted to look away, but there was nowhere else to look. The lights followed her eyes around the restricted proximity, surely bright enough to spontaneously combust.

The Doctor's blood stormed through Amy's bloodstream, mixing with her devastatingly lacking cells. Little did Amy know it, but her blood was being destroyed – not healed – by the foreign invading cells. They tore at her humanity easily, replacing the sickle cells with much stronger ones. Much stronger, _Timelord_ cells. The Doctor was fully aware of what was happening to her, fully aware that as she slept her DNA was being rewritten.

Fully aware that if this worked, he'd have a very feisty, redheaded Timelady on his hands.

Amy shifted, unsettled. She was unable to get herself into a comfortable position as it seemed like her skin was on fire. Whenever it came into contact with something she was certain it was hot enough to burn. The clammy sweat covered her entire surface, dampening the bed sheets on which she lay. The Doctor squirmed in his seat, finding it extremely difficult to watch her.

_What's done is done. This saved her life, remember that when you feel guilty._

The statistics of Amy's survival being nil didn't make the Doctor feel any better. Amy's pain was unimaginable right now, and he wasn't even sure if it would work. Had there been a way to take on her pain, let her undergo the DNA re-write smoothly, then he would've done it. Even in sleep the emotion was painted drastically across her face. How badly he wanted to run his fingertips across her frowning lips and make her smile. The Doctor imagined her beautiful eyes, buried in confusion and panic. Another difficult image to handle.

Since when had the Doctor become so _human_?

His eyes ran along the length of Amy's body. She somewhat resembled a broken china doll, her pale face framed perfectly by her tangled red locks. All she needed was rose red lips instead of sickly pink ones, and she'd fit the bill precisely. It wasn't hard to imagine her in an exhibit with people staring at her, drinking in her gloriousness. There would be nothing else in this exhibit of course; Amy just stole the show, even if it was her show all along.

A single tear rolled down the Doctor's cheek. He stayed still, not bothering to catch it as it splashed on Amy's hand. He was overcome with emotion – not a particularly nice feeling – and there was no point in holding it back. The only person here to witness was his TARDIS, his kind, old blue box. She'd understand.

_You don't have to hold it together all of the time, Doctor._

She whispered the words into his mind, quiet enough to be overlooked, loud enough to be screamed from the top of a tall building. A pressure built up around his hearts, trying to squeeze the worry and the pain away, filling his eyes with tears to get rid of the foul presence.

The Doctor took the opportunity of Amy's sleep to properly examine her wrist. He was very careful not to disturb her, lifting her limp hand from her side so he could see it properly. The ugly scars decorated her skin, red slashes surrounded by soft purple bruises. The Doctor resisted the urge to look away, forget they were there. Instead he stayed staring at the lines, counting how many there were. Twenty of them, exactly. Her skin was cold to the touch; it felt rough and almost unnatural. The way his fingertips grazed over the cuts was enough to have Amy stirring, but nowhere near enough to drag her out of the dream state. His touch sparked a reaction deep inside Amy, well, two reactions actually. There was the normal butterflies-in-her-stomach-oh-my-god-he's-touching-me reaction that Amy was definitely not used to yet. Then there was the reaction of her cells, recognising a familiar genetic code and buzzing to life. Agonisingly slowly, Amy began to wake up.

The Doctor was quick to perceive her awareness, suddenly very afraid of what she'd open her eyes to find. His free hand twitched in the direction of the medical cabinet that housed an extremely sensitive stethoscope. If anything, even the slightest mutation of the tissues, had occurred he'd know in seconds. Expecting her eyes to flutter open any second, he was prepared to sprint for the stethoscope. She didn't have to know why, of course.

Amy could feel the nausea pushing up her throat; it was a battle to keep it down. All she wanted to focus on right now was opening her eyes so she could see that brilliant face. She wanted to be able to bask in his perfection, stare deep into his archaic eyes without getting dizzy, follow the curves of his lips with her fingertips, lose herself in the sharp angles of his cheek bones and generally just love him.

Like a jagged dagger the realisation stabbed through the Doctor's chest. He didn't need the stethoscope, her eyes were enough conformation. They didn't glow the way he had been anticipating, they held no warm orangey Timelord glow. Her eyes were beautiful all the same, but they were still human. Which only meant that it hadn't worked, meant that he'd put her through all that unnecessary pain.

Amy noticed the disappointment flash in the Doctor's eyes before she noticed anything else. It disappeared in an instant, replaced by a much more welcoming feeling. That didn't mean it wasn't there. "Hello." She croaked.

The Doctor's lips cracked into a smile. "Hello Amelia." His voice was weighed down with sadness, and being less committed to pretending he decided to overlook it.

Amy scowled temporarily before her happiness dwarfed the annoyance of being called 'Amelia'.

"All right Pond?"

Struggling slightly, Amy sat up. Before she had enough time to take another breath the Doctor had wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a protective embrace. Her answer had been stolen away by the sudden contact, but she eased into his touch almost straight away.

"I'm sorry." He whispered just above her ear into her hair.

"It's okay. The injection didn't hurt that-"

"That's not why I'm sorry." He pushed her back to arm's length so he could evaluate her expression properly. "Well, it is, but it isn't at the same time. I was selfish and I should not have taken that risk with you."

Amy's brows knotted in confusion. "What risk?" Her previously tired voice was beginning to return to normal, shocking after what she'd experienced.

He chewed on his lip – an adorable movement, Amy observed – in guilt. "I was trying to rewrite your DNA. Not intentionally, but still. I can't believe I'm selfish enough to even have considered stealing your human-ness."

"Did it work?"

He was taken aback by her seeming curiosity.

"No."

"So I'm still…?"

"Human as they come."

A disappointed tone echoed through both of their voices.

Amy decided she was bored of being confined to a bed and wanted to explore the rest of the TARDIS. She wriggled from under the covers, swinging her legs over the edge, nearly kicking the Doctor in the shins. Instinctively, the Doctor's arms shot out to catch her as she wobbled uncertainly.

"I can walk, Doctor." Amy scowled a little, determined to get up without his help. He withdrew his arms and let them swing helplessly by his sides. Amy's balance left a lot to be improved as she pushed herself away from the mattress. Her feet pointed inwards as she struggled to stay upright. Still she didn't admit to needing the Doctor's help. Amelia Pond was way too independent to give in that easily. She shuffled slowly on uncertain legs towards the door, arms sticking out like aeroplane wings to help her balance. The Doctor followed a few feet behind, ready to reach out and catch her if she stumbled.

"Which way to the control room?" She called over her shoulder at the Timelord, certain he was following her.

"It doesn't matter. She'll get you where you want; you just have to think about it." His voice was tired and lacking the usual glee.

Amy span on her heel a little too quickly, sending herself flailing to the floor. The Doctor's arms were underneath her before she hit, but her heart was still racing with a sudden burst of adrenaline. A delicious pink tint spread across her cheeks, all the way up to her hairline. The blush rivalled the colour of her hair.

"Thanks." She whispered up to the Timelord, embarrassed.

"More than welcome."

His response was half-hearted and somewhat bitter. Without another word he righted Amy onto her feet and took a step back, to resume following at a distance. Slightly unnerved, Amy continued her slow trek towards the control room. She'd get there even if it meant she broke a leg walking.

The Doctor's unusual response confused Amy, but she didn't turn back to confront him. If there was one thing she was normally good at it was confronting and getting the answers she wanted. But today had dragged on far too long already, and she didn't feel like getting into the Doctor's bad book. Amy was convinced he had one of those.

A very familiar door appeared in front of the pair; Amy was quick to pick up her speed. She thought that if she could get back into the control room then everything would return to normal.

"Careful." The Doctor said in a cautious voice. "Don't forget the stairs."

Amy's arms shot out to curl around the banister, her feet falling into open space. A squeak escaped her as she landed on her backside.

"Ow." She grumbled. A set of firm hands settled on her waist, hauling her from the floor. Amy spun slowly in his grasp to face him, to assess the emotions playing out in his centuries-old eyes.

From a brief glance she could only deduce one thing. "You're exhausted."

The Doctor didn't deny her diagnosis, he merely shrugged. "So?"

"When was the last time you had a proper sleep?" Amy's mother-hen instincts began to kick in.

Again, the Timelord shrugged. "Maybe, hmm, five days?" His voice was nonchalant.

Amy's shimmering eyes widened in surprise. "Five days?" A sigh escaped her.

"What?" To Amy's immediate pleasure, the Doctor's eyes were shining a mysterious green-blue-brown colour that she'd never really seen before.

"You aren't Doctor I-Don't-Need-Sleep-Because-I'm-A-Timelord. You need rest." Her voice was firm, but that didn't mean she couldn't stop the giggles that followed.

"I," The Doctor stifled a yawn, "Pond, am perfectly fine. Enough energy in me to run a whole planet." He smiled down at her, ruffling her hair with his pale fingers.

"I don't believe you." Amy smirked.

The Doctor's eyebrow shot up. "Oh really Pond?"

Without warning he scooped her up and carried her into the centre of the control room. Amy squealed, playfully punching the Doctor's chest. "Put me down!" She protested.

Despite Amy being weakened, the Doctor didn't particularly want to feel the wrath of his flame-haired girlfriend. Obliging quickly, he placed her on the cream seat opposite the console.

Amy crossed her legs over each other, a smile lighting her face, amused by the Doctor's sudden compliance. He never normally gave in this easily. Just more conclusive proof he was tired. People tended to act differently when they were tired, be it intentional or not. Amy couldn't help her fascination as the Doctor whirled around the console at what seemed a mile a minute. The way his fingers dragged across the console, telling the TARDIS to take them to a faraway planet, was simply mesmerising.

That's why Amy didn't notice at first the Timelord's huddled figure on the floor. A spike of worry hit her before the soft snores reached her. Amy shook her head, laughing quietly.

"I told you so," A smile decorated her face as she looked down at the dozing Timelord.

For a brief moment, Amy wondered what the Doctor could possibly be dreaming about. He had everything he could possibly want in reality, he had no need to dream. Perhaps the dream state was just a flux of different memories and emotions for the Doctor. No real thought was required, he just dreamt. Dreamt of unimportant things that he'd probably forget by the time he woke up.

"Amy," Came a soft mumble from the Doctor's lips. "DNA… different… Timelady…"

She came to realise that the words spilling from his mouth were obviously related to his dream. Whatever it was that was playing out in his mind, it had something to do with human and Timelord DNA. More specifically, her human DNA.

A wicked idea flashed across Amy's mind. The Doctor had told her that his blood had made her cells rewrite themselves, change according to the pattern that swept across them. Something hadn't worked, maybe Amy wasn't strong enough or there wasn't enough blood in her system for it to have effect. If somehow she could withdraw enough blood to make it work…

Not considering the effects, positive or negative, Amy shot off to the medical bay. _You are absolutely insane_, _this is impossible._

"Not impossible." Her voice echoed around the corridors as she tried to navigate her way back.

Her conscious managed to catch up with her by the time she'd reached the medical bay.

_What is he going to say Amy? He's going to be furious with you, might even take you home again. It's dangerous, you know how much it hurt last time. It might not even work, you sure you want to put yourself through that again?_

Without a second thought, Amy sprang towards the now deserted bed, grabbing the syringe. She spun on her heel, ready to retreat back to the control room. The route seemed to be longer than she remembered, and Amy found herself getting lost in the matrix of corridors. A foreign feeling clogged up her mind, like something had climbed inside. The TARDIS didn't want her going through with this. Pushing the thought of negative consequences out of her mind, Amy continued towards the control room, praying that the Doctor was still asleep.

A weight lifted on her heart as she spotted the intergalactic man lying soundly asleep on the control room floor. His hair was more dishevelled than normal, probably from the tossing and turning he'd been doing in his sleep. He had a somewhat angelic quality about him as he slept, Amy noticed.

Trying to be as discrete as possible, Amy knelt next to the sleeping man, tugging at his jacket sleeve. The pale pink flesh seemed to glow in the light from the console. Amy ran delicate fingers across his skin, searching for a vein. She'd seen this done so many times on all those pointless television programmes. It had looked easy. Spotting a faint blue sliver underneath his skin, Amy tensed slightly. Was she really about to do this? Before she could catch up on herself she poked the needle through his flesh, frantically trying to withdraw as much blood as possible before he woke up. Amazingly, the Doctor didn't even stir. Like he wanted her to do this.

Amy knew her suspicion was wrong. There was no way the Doctor could ever justify Amy possibly harming herself. Convinced that the syringe was as full as it was ever going to be Amy withdrew the needle. A round drop of crimson rested over the puncture, a perfectly formed red globe against white flesh. It was only now that the needle hovered uncertainly above the crease in his elbow that the Doctor began to shift uncomfortably. There was something going on, going on outside the limits of his dream, something that was extremely very _not good._

Amy's entire form stiffened as the Timelord's eyes fluttered open. By some grace of god he hadn't noticed the syringe embedded in her arm until it was far, far too late to stop her.

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><p>So, what did you think? I think this chapter's a little messy, and if I'd spent another week or so on it, it might have been better. But I've decided to go with my gut instinct and just get it out here. I've never actually watched a blood transfusion before, although as an aspiring Doctor, I should have...<p>

If there are any mistakes, plotholes, or you have a suggestion for me, leave me a review?

Time for some shameless promotion: I recently wrote a little Sherlock fic, because I was bored and I had this idea in my head. I would appreciate it so much if you could go give it a read? It's called 'Elementary, My Dear Watson' - you'll find it in the Sherlock section, or just go to my profile? ;D

**As always, I am so grateful for every single review you people leave me. They each make my entire week! You have no idea how precious it is to wake up to Inbox (1) - [FF: Review]**

Virtual hugs!

Maddie,


	8. Chapter VIII

Aren't you so impressed? I promised this up by Monday, and it's Saturday night yo'! (This shows that I have no social life whatsoever.) I'm so pleased with this, I literally wrote most of it the same day as I finished chapter seven! Took some tweaking, but I'm happy! I like this chapter, going to be shameless and say that I think I'm pretty damn impressive. I've never made it this far into a story with such a desire to continue! Most of it is down to you, the people reading this now. Without that first review, or any of them, I would have lost interest in this a long time ago! So thank you. Honestly, from the heart of my bottom (Suite life of Zack + Cody reference there! :'3), thank you!

**Disclaimer: **I OWN EVERYTHING. HARHAR,** _NOT. _You would think people knew this by now.**

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><p>"Amelia Pond what are you -" The Doctor paused his outburst to stare at the rupture that very slowly leaked rose-red liquid. His face became set in confusion, a single question painting itself into his old eyes. <em>What have you done?<em>

Amy smiled at him weakly, feeling a familiar rush of warmth through her bloodstream. She ignored the sudden fury that spread across his face, trying to maintain a cool composure. After all, this time she'd brought it upon herself, so she couldn't complain.

That didn't meant the Doctor couldn't.

"Are you incredibly thick Pond? Do you understand how dangerous what you've just done is?" His voice was a raised whisper, a shocked, but not angry, tone leaking through it.

Amy didn't let his emotions deter her choices. Even if he wasn't comfortable in admitting it whilst awake, this was what he wanted. He wanted another person that was able to understand everything that he did. He wanted to be able to say 'I'm not the only one'. He wanted company in that now incredibly lonely species. And for all Amy Pond had to say, he was going to get it.

The Doctor was horrified and excited by the thought of what was happening to Amy at this moment. His mind had deteriorated into a spacey-wacey, wibbly-wobbly mess and he couldn't make sense of anything. The emotion centre was the only focus in his vast expanse of a brain, everything else had quickly become unimportant. It was incredibly difficult for him to interpret the signals that shot along nerves; they were travelling far too fast for even him to keep up.

He watched through afraid eyes as Amy's skin began to emit a very subtle orange glow. A glow that was heart-breakingly familiar. In his dreams this was all he'd ever really wanted, but now it was happening he was ready to reject the reality. It seemed like a much more demonic concept now that it was playing out in front of him – inside his head it had seemed like an innocent, impossible idea.

_Nothing is impossible, just a little bit unlikely_.

How he hated himself for ever thinking such an idea was decent. The Doctor couldn't bring himself to look at Amy – how could she smile when she'd done such a terrible thing? Her porcelain face seemed to portray an emotion of happiness – an impossible thing considering her actions. Her lips tugged at a smile, her eyes shimmering a perfect green. With all that Timelord blood still lingering in her system from the first injection, the Doctor knew it would be more than enough to kick start the process. Right in front of him he could see the humanity evaporating from her in the orange light. Amy didn't need the Doctor's conformation, she knew full well what was happening, yet she asked him anyway.

"It's happening, isn't it?"

The Doctor winced at her gleeful tone. It was not sane for her to be so thrilled at the thought of taking on a whole new species. If the 'transformation' didn't rip her body apart, then she'd be left severely diminished, perhaps even deformed. He couldn't bear to think that it was his own cells that were to dictate the remainder of Amy Pond's life, let alone that she'd brought it upon herself.

Feebly, he nodded in response to her question.

Realising that this was really happening had Amy in a sudden fit of nerves. "Will it hurt?" Her question was innocent. The answer was most definitely not.

"I have never seen anyone survive a Human-Timelord DNA rewrite." The Doctor's voice was unmistakably bitter.

Amy's heart dropped through her stomach, and her Human/Timelord blood froze in her veins.

"I'm going to die?" Amy's normally confident voice was suddenly very, very afraid.

The Doctor sprang forward to lock his arms around his so-much-more-than-a companion. The fingers of his right hand knotted into her hair, the other coming to rest on the small of her back, digits splayed across the thin material of her shirt. He pulled her now cold frame against the length of him, trying to comfort her. The Doctor felt like it was entirely his fault that Amy was now in this situation. If he hadn't told her about the DNA rewrite in the first place…

He looked down over Amy's shoulder at his hand. It rested carefully against her back, not pushing too hard. He felt the ache in his hearts as the glow from Amy got brighter.

"Amy, you have to be very brave, all right?" He kissed her forehead, feeling the heat of her skin burn his lips. Slowly he released her from his grasp, rolling backwards to stand up. Amy watched him from her kneeling position on the console room floor, tears clouding her eyes, as he backed away. She reached out a hand, only to be distracted by the light pouring through her skin.

"Amy," The Doctor cooed affectionately, refusing to let the panic overtake him.

"Doctor." Her voice was broken, quiet and terrified. "Doctor please help me. Please."

"You have to stand alone. I'm still here. I'll be here when it's over."

Amy wasn't sure what _it_ referred too. He could simply mean this most odd and frightening phase. _Or he could mean your life Amy. He will still be here if you die now. You will be leaving him alone._

Amy squeezed her eyes shut so she couldn't see his face. She didn't want her last image to be of the man she honestly loved, so hurt and alone. No, she wanted better memories than that. She bit her lip to stop herself from crying out as her heartbeat tripled in speed. It was painful, the throb of the muscle shaking her ribs, nearly breaking them. She presumed that her heart would eventually speed along so quickly that it just stopped. At least she had some idea of how she was going to die.

Some people think dying is like walking through a tunnel towards a bright light. Some people write that it's a painless passage from the end of one life to another. Others describe it as a heartbreaking occurrence for everyone that watches it, but not so much for the person actually dying.

Right now, Amy had her own definition.

Every inch of her was on fire, swallowed up by a phantom glow that seemed to spill from every cell. Her lungs were being forced into her ribcage by some unknown presence, forcing the air up through her throat. She wanted to scream, but the noise was stolen away by her tears. Her eyes remained firmly shut, a billion different patterns of light dancing across her eyelids. The tips of her fingers sparked with electricity as she reached for the Doctor's hand. Of course she was as good as blind and had no clue where he was standing. It felt horrific to know that he stood perhaps metres from her, watching her suffer and not intervening.

_You have to stand alone._

She needed to see his face.

One last time before she died. It couldn't hurt that much.

Desperately Amy tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids remained stuck together, like someone had glued them with monster glue. It hurt more to pull the flesh away from flesh than it did to sit and suffer in this most undignified death.

Through her pain she heard a voice, clear-as-day. It made her pain dim ever so slightly, the words like a cooling bandage to a gushing wound.

"I love you Amelia."

Those words were enough to see her through the void that stretched out in front of her. She imagined his lips shaping to make the glorious sound, the heart and soul of his voice as he confessed his emotion. Amy's chest felt heavy. Not from the hurt and the love that normally weighed her down. She was sure that was part of it, but not entirely so now. There was something else. Something else sitting in her chest, sending out a mean throb into her ribcage, matching the frantic beat of her heart.

Starting at her fingertips, her body seemed to go numb. It took just seconds for the icy feeling to sweep her entire anatomy, finishing it's travels at her now freezing heart. Her knees were now no longer strong enough to hold up her shaking frame, and she began to fall forward, fully expecting to land face first into the TARDIS floor. Amy wasn't expecting it to hurt; after all, she was probably dead.

The Doctor noticed her slight lean, catapulting himself forward to catch her in his arms before she could fall. Gently he twisted her figure to lay her down comfortably on the TARDIS floor. His hand hovered over her chest, wanting so badly to feel her heartbeat.

Amy's head hurt. It felt like someone had cut open her skull, filled it with a billion razor blades and shook her. Hard. She felt like her brain was going to implode, pushed closed to the edge by a familiar double pulse. _A very familiar double pulse_.

Not wanting to believe her own body, Amy tried to open her eyes again. Surprisingly her eyelids came apart quickly as the light from the control room flooded her. She had to blink several times, seeing the control room in a slightly sharper definition than what she was used to.

"D…" She croaked, her throat desert dry.

"Shh," He murmured, hand still hovering curiously above her. There was a part of him, a small, insignificant part, that didn't want to know what had happened to her. He just wanted her to exist in a universe where everything was perfect and he could love her to no extent and make her happy. Staring down at her face now, she looked anything but.

"You're okay. You're alive." The Doctor said reassuringly, smiling down at Amy. "You're alive." The glee in his voice was pronounced. "Amy Pond, so brilliantly alive." The emphasis on the word, to a normal person, would quickly become boring or annoying. Not to Amy or the Doctor, they shared the happiness that the word mustered like it was going out of style.

To the Doctor's surprise, tears rolled down Amy's porcelain cheeks. He was quick to stroke a thumb across the delicate skin, brushing away the tears before they could get any further. He didn't want to leave her side, but to know what he had already guessed to be true he needed to retrieve the stethoscope. Very slowly, so not as to scare Amy, he straightened himself up. The Doctor knew that it would take him all of possibly five minutes to get the instrument and return to Amy's side.

"Five minutes." He promised, glancing down Amy's structure. There was something about her that looked different. The Doctor knew that nothing external had changed, but even when she was lying down there was a difference to the way she held herself. Amy almost resembled him now. That in itself should have been enough conformation.

Feeling dizzy Amy hauled herself into a sitting position. Her head was spinning, but the pain had dimmed to something that could be considered bearable. After what Amy had suffered, she was sure that anything else the world could throw at her was more than bearable. Her jumbled thoughts were distracted by a very odd feeling that swelled in her chest. It was like there was a new pressure weighing down on her, her chest cavity now more than full. Her lungs were pressed against her ribs to make room for whatever it was that clogged up her anatomy.

"Doctor?" She called out, fully expecting the Timelord to appear in front of her with a smile bigger than the circumference of Jupiter. After waiting a few agonising seconds, she came to the conclusion that he was either asleep or not in the room. Normally this would be where her pulse soared in anxiety. Instead Amy felt two heartbeats, individual of each other, both racing at some ridiculous speed.

A faint "I'm coming Pond!" ghosted into the control from a corridor or two away. From what Amy knew, the timbre of his voice meant that he was nervous, excited, happy and possibly upset all at the same time. A rare experience, the Doctor being emotional. It had become all too common recently, to Amy's confusion. The Timelord wasn't one for emotions, or so she'd thought.

The raggedy man appeared at the top of the stairs, bowtie in desperate need of straightening, hair in desperate need of brushing. Flushed pink lips in desperate need of kissing. Amy took a few seconds to see the stethoscope slung around his neck, probably so he could make sure that what had happened to her had actually happened. If he could feel how Amy felt right then, he wouldn't need the stethoscope.

Anticipating, the Doctor resumed his position kneeling on the floor next to Amy. He ignored how wondrous it _still_ felt to have her so close. Nestling the ear buds comfortably in his ears, the Doctor began to mentally prepare himself. Yes, it was only a heartbeat. A heartbeat that should not exist in any other being, excusing himself. A heartbeat that the Doctor thought he was never going to really hear again.

Amy winced a little as the cold smooth metal of the stethoscope pressed against her chest, hovering over her heart. The Doctor couldn't contain a smile as the sound filled his head. Looking up through his eyelashes at Amy, he was positively beaming.

"Guess what Pond?"

_Like she really needed to guess._

"Enlighten me." Amy's voice was light. Nobody would ever guess the trauma she'd been put though in the last twenty four hours.

"Two hearts."

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><p>As of 22:23 on 2007/2011, I have recieved 58 beautiful reviews - again, thanks xD I can't say that enough!

What did you think? Feel free to tell me your exact opinion in a review, or even a message! I try to reply to each one, it could take me a month, but I'll get there.

And just because I think I'm hipster, I'm going to tell you that I wrote the most cheesy fan letter to Matt Smith in the history of ever. I posted it yesterday first class, it will reach the address by Tuesday! Cue a three month wait for a reply :(

**As always, I love each and every person that reads this, VIRTUAL VOLDEMORT HUGS FOR ALL!**

Maddie,

[_A/N: Sorry about the long A/N's, I just have a lot to say this week...]_


	9. Chapter IX

Well hey!

Keeping it short, the reviews I'm getting are lovely. Now enjoy;

**_A/N: As stated in every chapter, I do not own Doctor Who or anything related. I don't work, and don't intend to work, for the BBC, so I never will._**

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><p>"Amelia Pond. Time lady." The Doctor grinned.<p>

Amy grimaced. "Like my name wasn't fairy tale enough." She had never been one for whimsical pink fairies and their stories. Amy used to protest against anything mildly pink, many a time ruining the dresses her Aunt would try to force upon her. A smirk flashed across her face, she'd enjoyed tearing the fabric apart.

"It's a great name!"

Amy took a playful swing at the Time lord's face, meaning to drop her hand before it made contact. The Doctor wound his long fingers around her wrist, keeping it suspended inches from his face. From the corner of his eye he could see the scars decorating her skin, ugly red slashes on otherwise undisturbed china flesh.

Amy's eyes settled on her wrist, fascinated by the ancient digits that wrapped around it. How had she never noticed how elegant the Doctor's hands were? It was like they were carved out of marble, smooth and cold against her. The touch rivalled –and beat- every time Rory had ever tried to comfort her. Quick to get the thought of Rory out of her head, Amy focussed hard on the current situation. It became a whole less difficult when the Doctor brushed his lips lightly over the scars, applying virtually no pressure to the delicate skin, like it would bruise at the slightest touch.

His eyes had begun to sparkle an enthralling blue-grey as they patiently watched her. They flitted over her face, looking for anything he hadn't noticed before. It was an impossible task, the Doctor had gazed at Amy's face so many times that he could recall every cell with his eyes closed. The Doctor had a tendency to remember the important things, such a glorious face was definitely one of them.

Despite the turmoil of questions in his head, the Doctor remained silent. Amy had most likely had enough of his prying; he thought it best to act normal. Well, as normal as a nine-hundred year old Time lord could be.

"Miss Pond." He whispered the words against her skin. "Would you do me the honour of accompanying me on a date?"

The Doctor hauled himself up onto his feet, pulling Amy up with him. Her balance wavered momentarily; she leant against the Doctor for support.

"Of course, Mister …" She went to use his name again, temporarily frustrated.

"Smith. Tonight, I'm John Smith." The Doctor winked, dragging Amy towards the TARDIS wardrobe.

Amy's eyes widened. She could've been standing in the largest department store in the world, filled with every different style and colour you could possibly imagine. Only, this wasn't a department store, and probably went on to be the size of an entire shopping centre. Perhaps even the size of a city. Not being a girl for shopping and fashion, Amy had no idea where to start. She glanced over at the Doctor, who looked just as awe-struck, even though he must've been in here a billion separate times.

"I suggest starting over here." The Doctor edged her towards the nearest rack, overflowing with an assortment of pretty evening dresses. Amy didn't even dare think about how many digits accompanied the tags.

Amy ran her hands over the fabric, feeling the silk under her fingers. The rainbow of dresses was starting to give her a headache. She could feel the Doctor's eyes on her, watching to see what choice she'd make. Amy presumed he was just curious; she hadn't spotted the archive of bowties that hid just behind the rack she browsed. Rummaging through the rack, a particular dress caught Amy's eye. To her not-surprise, it was TARDIS blue, made from soft, soft satin. A sculpted strapless number, it would contour perfectly with the curves of Amy's body. A smile lit her face. There was no time to search the rest of the city-wardrobe, she was pretty sure there wasn't another dress like this one.

Amy pulled the dress off the rack, clutching the hanger excitedly. She turned to the Doctor, showing him her choice. The smile of approval on his face made Amy's hearts flutter.

"Where are we actually going?" Amy asked.

"Now Pond, it wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, would it? Instruments of torture, what is it you call them, heels? They're over there; I'll be waiting in the control room, okay?" He brushed past her, disappearing behind the rack and seemingly out of the room.

Amy's head was in a state of flurry. All she knew was that she needed to be wearing this dress when she made it back to the control room. Sighing, wishing that the Doctor wasn't so tricky, Amy went off to discover the perfect pair of shoes. She ghosted around the racks, each pair beautiful, but not right. It took her a good five minutes to locate a simple pair of silver high-heels, very basic but divine.

The Doctor was right, instruments of torture. But hell, her feet would look good. Satisfied, Amy discarded her days-old clothes, leaving them in a heap on the floor, and donned the blue dress. She squeezed her feet into the shoes, catching sight of herself in the mirror. She smirked. For a ten minute whizz around a galactic wardrobe, she'd done pretty well. Her hair fell in wild strands, untamed and definitely untameable. Amy guessed she'd have to go for the unruly look. She spotted a jewelled silver clip, and without thinking slid it into her hair, pinning back flyaway locks. There, she was decent.

The sound of her heels against the TARDIS floor echoed around the corridors. So much for surprising the Doctor. He could probably hear her approaching now, probably planning something ridiculously insane.

In the console room the Doctor stood fiddling with his TARDIS blue bowtie. For the first time in goodness knows how long, he was truly nervous. The click of Amy's shoes sent drumbeat pulses through his body. Every nerve was tingling with electricity, a feeling that to the Doctor was most odd. Sure, he'd had the occasional excitement before, but nothing on such a grand scale as this.

The Doctor was pretty sure his hearts dropped through his stomach when Amy appeared in the doorway. The first thing he noticed, embarrassingly, was her legs. They seemed to stretch on forever, disappearing under the frail blue satin. The next thing was her eyes. It would always be her eyes that attracted the Doctor the most. There was something indescribable about the way the different hues blended together. Like a masterpiece, the Doctor thought. A masterpiece worthy of being kept forever in the prestigious gallery that was the Doctor's hearts. Only certain works of art would ever penetrate _this_ gallery. Only Amy's showpiece would ever fit the bill.

"Will you tell me where we're going now?" Amy asked impatiently, stalking towards the Doctor.

"You look…"

And that was it.

The Doctor, the marvellous, brilliant, genius Doctor, was lost for words.

He twisted his hands together awkwardly, waiting for Amy to totter her way across the control room floor. She wobbled uncertainly, her ankles already crying in protest. Only God knew why Amy had chosen these shoes. There was a pair of perfectly respectable ballet flats sitting around somewhere, how badly she wished she'd worn them instead! It wasn't like Amy was a short girl, easily only a couple of inches shorter than the Doctor. Already she could see herself regretting this.

Roughly a million different words whizzed around the Doctor's head as Amy approached. Words like _legs _and _wow _and _hair _and _red _and _oh-my-god-she's-beautiful_. Amy making the Doctor speechless was become an all too often happening, much to his distaste. He was meant to be the ever-powerful being, capable of ripping entire constellations to shreds. He was not meant to be, however, a juvenile boy who seemed to lose his tongue every time his girlfriend was in the room. The Doctor presumed it came in the job description of being a loving boyfriend.

The Doctor didn't like to attach that word to himself, but was there really any other word for it? Lover made it sound like they were going behind someone's back, doing something wrong. _This is definitely not wrong._ Husband was just impossible. Would always be impossible.

He snapped out of the stiff trance phase the second he felt Amy's hand wrap around his. In the time he'd been contemplating Amy had managed to get herself across the console room. Seemingly, without breaking her leg. That in itself, to Amy, was an achievement.

"Come along Pond." The Doctor's grin returned, stretching from ear-to-ear (or at least it felt like it did).

Amy hesitated, zigzagging behind the Doctor, trying to keep her balance. Her hand was still latched on to his, her arm out in front of her, the Doctor's elongated behind him. They may have been more than an arm's length apart, but as long as their hands continued to meet in the middle both parties were satisfied.

Glancing over her shoulder when she heard the TARDIS door lock behind her, Amy stopped moving.

"Where are we?"

A wall of glass spanned to her right, reflecting the lights that seemed to hover by the ceiling. It was far too dark to see what waited on the other side of the glass, but Amy could only imagine it was beautiful. The Doctor had paused too, but not to admire the scenery. A man stood before the couple, dressed in a garish red tuxedo jacket. Presumably part of a uniform.

"Do you have a reservation sir?" The question was well rehearsed, spoken like it was from a mechanical voice box implanted in a robot.

"Don't you recognise me? Oh wait, of course you wouldn't. New face, I forgot." The red-jacket man's eyes had become confused.

"Sir, I…" The man hesitated, unsure of how to react. _New face? How is that possible?_

The question was easily read on his face, Amy smiled. How was anything possible when it came to the Doctor?

"Mr Smith!" Came a jolly voice from behind red-jacket man. He swivelled, facing the short, stout man that advanced. "Please do ignore Nate, first day on the job. This way!"

The Doctor peered over his shoulder at Amy, hearts wrenching at the grin that played on her lips. Her eyebrows shot up as she watched the short man waddled back the way he came.

"Best not to ask questions." The Doctor said, beginning to follow the man. Amy didn't move for a moment. "What're you waiting for Pond?"

Amy blinked a few times, then again for good measure. She shook her head, following the Time lord into the dark. As they walked they passed all sorts of different creatures, all sat at tables eating delicacies Amy wasn't sure she'd even seen before. She knew full well it was rude to stare, but how could she not when she passed a large green blob with two heads?

The walk to wherever the short man was taking them seemed to be endless. They passed countless couples, parties and some lone people on their journey. Still, Amy had no clue what was going on.

"Sunrise is in an hour, you'll be taking part in the festivities, correct?" She heard the short man ask the Doctor a few feet ahead of her.

"Correct. Her feet will probably have dropped off by then, but never mind." Amy felt two pairs of eyes assessing her footwear.

"My shoes are fine." Amy scowled, catching up with the Doctor.

"Yes Pond, they're lovely but they're not dancing shoes are they?"

"Dancing? You mentioned nothing about dancing!" Amy crossed her arms, unimpressed. Before them was a round table, draped in a blood red silk table cloth embellished with beautiful twirling silver patterns.

"I never mentioned anything Pond." The Doctor winked before taking a seat, indicating she should do the same.

Amy sighed, sitting on the plush silver chair opposite the Time lord.

"Is everything satisfactory?" The stout man still stood by the Doctor, waiting for his approval.

"Perfect. Just..." his eyes met Amy's intensely. "Perfect."

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><p>Owow Maddie, you managed a happy chapter ending! Savour the happy guys, it takes a turn in the next chapter - Chapter 10! Can't believe I've written that much! I have no idea how long this story will be, as long as I can maintain quality it can be as long as forever.<p>

Everyone that has reviewed is amazing and I wish I knew them so I could give them all a huge hug. Most recently _Akanii _- I woke up to his review this morning and did not stop smiling through out my Doctor Who marathon. It's not just him though, they're all fabulous!

And guys, check my blog? I made a sidebar gif, would like to hear some opinions? haha. Go to still-notginger (dot) tumblr (dot) com and have a look ;)

As always!

Maddie


	10. Chapter X

Hey there! I am so sorry this took so long. Please, just hit me already. I've been watching Sherlock and Doctor Who and Wonders Of The Universe and going to football matches. My life has been amazingly busy this week. Again, I apologise that this took so long. Another apology to come at the end.

**_Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine. The plot is. If the characters were mine, then they'd be living with me by now._**

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><p>Amy felt the intensity of the Doctor's gaze, and as an all-too-common reaction her cheeks began to warm. She could feel it, spreading like a traitorous fire across her face. Amy had no desire to stop the blush, however. It made the Doctor smile to see her reaction, and anything was worth his smile. Even if it meant constantly resembling a tomato. The Timelord smiled at her now, ignoring the noise that bounced around them, ignoring the world. There was something about his disposition that screamed nervous to Amy. She couldn't place a finger on why or how, but it was there. A tiny, nagging feeling at the back of his mind. And Amy could see it, read it through the eyes that bore into hers. Read the emotion like her favourite novel, the words spelt out in front of her. Not in a foreign language, or some sort of code, in a way that she could understand. However insignificant it was to be able to see another's emotion, Amy was still excited. Nobody could read the Doctor; he was the compassionate alien that saved worlds. He had no such time to be read.<p>

Amy Pond fascinated the Doctor. That much was not a secret. There was a wisdom in her eyes that could only come from seeing the most difficult things, having the most difficult experiences and learning from them. Those eyes would be the death of him, the Doctor was convinced. He twisted his fingers nervously, the box suddenly weighing a million tonnes in his pocket. *This is too soon, I am incredibly stupid*. The monologue that rasped inside his head was loud, louder than the surrounding people and aliens, louder than the thump-thump-thump-thump of his hearts in his chest.

"So," Amy' eyes glistened with curiosity. "What planet is this?"

Temporarily forgetting his nerves, the Doctor launched to answer her question. "This is Golaur, very nice planet, very nice scenery, not that you can see it. Lovely people! Bit clingy, actually very clingy. Laws and restraining orders are common. If you overlook-"

"What do you mean you can't see the scenery?" Amy had gained a lean over the table, not that she had noticed.

"Look to your right."

"It's a black wall." Amy said in a voice that suggested it was boring, mundane.

"You know it's glass. You knew the second you walked out of the TARDIS." The Doctor's eyes were alight with excitement. "The sun only rises once a year, only for a few hours. The Golaurs believe their planet is a blessing, and quite right too! They believe the gods have made such a beautiful planet that they are only worthy to view it for a limited time. Today is a very special day, Amy."

For just a moment, Amy believed that she could hear the swell of trepidation in his voice.

"Some say it's the most romantic thing in the universe, the sunrise." The Doctor commented like it was unimportant, when clearly it wasn't.

Amy reached across the table, placing her hands over the Doctor's. His eyes, that had managed to wander to the intricate patterns on the table cloth, came back to Amy's with force. They burnt like the rage of an unforgiving tempest, deeper than the expanse of space. It was very easy, Amy discovered, to get lost in the Timelord's eyes. A thought ran through the Doctor's head, uninterrupted by anything else, for once. It was an overwhelming desire that pushed outwards, definitely not forgotten easily. Had it not been for the fact that they weren't alone; the Doctor would've already given in and have kissed Amy senseless by now.

Almost fortunately there were not alone, and they were spared the embarrassment that came with such strong feelings. Well, spared for now.

Life continued to exist around the pair; they were too caught up in each other to notice. It amazed both Amy and the Doctor at how much could be said without words. Amy didn't realise there were suddenly endless streams of creatures drifting past her, she was missing out on discovering some of the most exotic species of the universe. Had she realised this, an almost definite thought would've crossed her mind. _The most exotic species in the universe? He's sitting opposite me._

But this thought didn't cross the redhead's mind. She remained in a tangle of different ideas that wrapped themselves together. It was very difficult to make sense of anything. As always when it came to the Doctor, Amy was left dumbfounded. Her mouth hung in an awkward gawk, eyes trained on his flawless face. Everything about the Doctor was impeccable, and nobody would tell Amy Pond different.

A new sensation tingled on her skin, deliciously warm. The heat (that wasn't too hot, just perfect, Amy noted) penetrated her flesh, relaxing her already loose joints. If she were to stand now she would probably fall. She was a fragile doll that had been disassembled. The only thing that held her together was the man whose fingers had laced themselves between hers. An intergalactic monster glue, of sorts.

A pressure on said fingers brought Amy back to reality.

"Pond? Is something wrong?" The Doctor was wearing a look that Amy recognised all too well.

The soul searching look, seeing straight through the barrier of her eyes, deep into her mind.

"Why are you upset? Amy? Amy, talk to me." His tone became panicked.

"Upset?" Amy repeated the word in confusion. "Doctor, I'm -"

"You're crying." The Doctor leant across the table, stroking his thumb across her cheek to catch the tears. "Amy." The Doctor's voice was barley a whisper.

"Happy…" She mumbled, overcome suddenly by the emotion. "This is… I'm just… happy." To Amy, that word was one of the most glorious words in her vocabulary.

The Doctor smiled then. A heart-wrenching smile that he'd put aside just for Amy.

**DWDWDWDWDWDWDWDW**

The rest of the hour leading up to the phenomenal event passed without Amy shedding another tear. Compliments and sweet nothings flew between the pair, who seemed not to care about anything happening around them. The Doctor was almost convinced that his eyes didn't leave Amy's once. There was something fascinating about the way her eyes communicated, saying so much without the slightest word. They spelt out ramblings that strung together to create the most beautiful of sentences. Words the Doctor was confident would only ever be spoken again to him. He'd observed, for far too long, the way Amy had looked at Rory. Compared to the look he believed he saw now, it was nothing. It almost hurt him to realise that Amy had never truly loved Rory the way he thought. The Doctor knew Amy was capable of pretending, see the fact that she'd been married to Rory, but there was a feral instinct deep inside his gut that told him _'Amy isn't pretending'_. Those three simple words, when put together in a way such as that, gave the Doctor more confidence than ever before. It was painfully cliché, but the Doctor didn't understand how he could've fathomed life before Amelia Jessica Pond.

A bustle of bodies brought the pair crashing back to reality. Amy broke the stare first, looking around at the aliens that now congregated in an empty space in the room. From a first glance it was easy to see there were at least a hundred, if not two hundred, beings pressed into one tight space. Already she was dreading it, knowing that somewhere along the line she and the Doctor would end up in the middle of it.

In the split second she'd been looking away the Doctor had managed to manoeuvre himself to the edge of the gathering. His eyes were brighter than usual and held a distinctly infantile quality. Amy did a double-take, one of those that you only see in the worst movies. How could he have moved that quickly? And worse, how could he have moved without her seeing? Amy swore that she felt blind most of the time around the Time lord.

"Pond!" He beckoned. "I can't dance on my own."

A grin lit the Time lord's face. If his dancing at Amy's wedding (_the memory earned an internal wince_) was anything to go by, most of Leadworth knew that he could dance on his own. Maybe not in a coordinated or stylish fashion, but he could dance nevertheless.

Amy sucked in a long breath through her nose. She'd known this was coming.

"Why?" She grumbled under her breath, pulling herself to her feet. Pain shot to her ankles, they hadn't quite recovered from her trek across the TARDIS.

In a very feeble, unlike Amy way she hobbled to the Doctor.

It only took 120 seconds for Amy to reach the Doctor. The pulse of his hearts seemed to work like the perfect clock. In those 120 seconds, a billion different thoughts had shot across the Time lord's mind. Clearly none were coherent, for his mind was blank of all things that weren't Amy. She was like a drug, an addiction. Addictions dulled the brain, made it almost impossible to think of anything else. The Doctor, in this case, decided that that wasn't so bad. In fact, it was preferred to only have to think about his flame haired so-much-more-than-a-companion.

Amy all but collapsed into his arms, anything to get the weight off of her feet. Another desperately unlike Amy quality. Even if it hurt her, she wasn't going to have a room of strangers (_and trust her, they were all strange_) witness her weakness. She didn't care it if was emotional weakness or just the fact that her ankles were nearly shattering. She shot a smile at the Doctor, who gazed at her with a concerned expression. It brought a sigh to Amy's lips, but before it could escape the Doctor had laid a finger across them.

"If your feet hurt just-"

"My feet don't hurt." She snapped, hoping he'd believe her.

The concern dissolved into plain unbelieving. "Amy Pond I don't believe you."

"Figured." Amy mumbled under her breath. "I'm not taking my shoes off, who knows what I could step on?" The words gave a cue to inspect the floor. Wooden, from what she could tell. It _looked_ clean. Then again, she _looked_ human. There was a perceptive spike in her pulse, the thrill of being something different.

A haunting melody began to float around the room, the noise leaking into all sorts of crevices. Amy hadn't imagined that one rhythm could hold so much potential. It was like a large jar, stuffed with different emotions that all blended together to create the music that others in the room now swayed to. The Doctor seemed to have given up in his quest to make Amy comfortable. Lightly he placed his hands on Amy's hips, feeling the thrash of blood in his veins under his skin. Heat and blood rushed to Amy's face, much to her dismay. She needed to learn to control herself; the constant blushing was far too embarrassing.

Remembering what little dancing she'd done in the past, Amy wrapped her arms securely around the Doctor's neck. Not tight enough to cause discomfort, and loose enough to write-off as casual. Almost immediately they began to drift in time to the music. The sound of what they presumed to be a violin had risen above the chatter of voices, drowning out the possibility of conversation. The Doctor and Amy had no use for words, they didn't make half the point they were required to. It seemed alien (_as alien as something could be when you were a Time lord_) to stay silent for so long. The Doctor was used to spewing out nonsense words, stringing them into something relevant. Nothing he could conjure up right now was relevant to anything.

He placed his lips delicately against Amy's forehead. It translated, he hoped, into 'I love you'. If it hadn't before, it did now.

The music continued steadily, playing out to a tempo that matched the Time lord's heartbeat perfectly.

"Amy…" The Doctor dipped down to whisper in her ear. At the sound of his voice Amy stopped moving. She trained her eyes on his, revelling in the blue-brown hue with flecks of green thrown into the mix. His eyes were truly exquisite.

"This is probably too fast, but," The ring box was burning a hole through his jacket pocket. Over Amy's shoulder, the Doctor could see the sun rising gradually. The light pierced the room, glinting off of the seemingly metallic cliff faces. "I want to ask you something. It's a very serious thing, you need to consider it properly, I'm sure-"

The Doctor was rambling.

_Ah, what a time to return to normal_.

He blinked, hoping to erase the nerves from his system.

"Amy, what I'm asking is-"

_Here we go. This is it._

A strong sense of déjà vu washed over the room as the sun –_ yes Doctor, the sun_ – flickered ominously in time with the lights, before dying all together.

Under his touch, the Doctor noticed Amy's heartbeats spike. She could only assume it was happening again.

"Doctor." The fear in her voice was already too much. "I'm scared."

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><p>So. Chapter ten. Bloody hell, I can't believe it. Did you like it? Be a doll and tell me in a review.<p>

Right. So that apology... I'm going on holiday on Wednesday, and I'm in London on Monday. I'll have no time Tuesday because I've got to pack. I won't get back until the 27th of August (_DOCTOR WHO RETURNS! MORE MATT SMITH ON MY TV, HELL YEAH xD_). I will have no time to write either, so there isn't going to be a chapter for a good two weeks. Then I go back to school, so even less time for writing with GCSE's and stuff. I'm sorry that it's going to be a long time, I just hope I've done enough to keep your interest going for that long...

Aside from that, **everyone have an awesome summer**.

Stay beautiful,

Maddie.

p.s - Reckon I could get to 80 reviews by the time I get back?


	11. Chapter XI

I'm back from my holiday! And I broke 80 reviews! Niro, the sun did go out, that's why she's scared. Also, you're fabulous because you were my 80th reviewer!

Sorry for lack of greatness and lack of length. I just wanted a chapter out there already. I hate keeping people waiting! Please enjoy. And by the way, this chapter is dedicated to Bianca (Wizardsinthetardis), because she's fabulous too.

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><p>"Amy," The trepidation in the Doctor's voice swelled, pushing out against his throat. "Amy, everything is going to be fine Amy," He whispered her name like it was more precious than the air in his lungs. Elegant fingers knotted into her wild ginger locks, fingertips grazing her scalp.<p>

"Doctor," Her voice was no more than a hushed whisper.

"Shush, Amy. Don't panic."

It was evident from the alarming thrum of her hearts that the instruction was far too late.

For a moment that seemed all too short, nothing moved. Amy could convince herself that there was no danger. It was just her and her raggedy Doctor, no one else. There wasn't an unknown reason as to why the sun –_ yes Amy, the sun_ – had gone out. There wasn't an immediate threat of danger. It was calm, collected, and safe.

The illusion of safety shattered around Amy as the roar of gunfire echoed in the distance. A sudden commotion of bodies threatened to separate the pair, but the Doctor clung to Amy as if their lives depended on it. For all he knew, it might. Whatever was approaching wasn't going to be easy. Not just anybody could shut out the sun. A part of the Doctor perked up, he was always one to enjoy a challenge. The rest of him fell down, however, as he could never enjoy anything that put Amy in danger.

"Amy!" The Doctor hollered above the chaos.

"Doctor!" Amy could feel something tugging on her from behind. A tightening grip that seemed to be loosening the Doctor's. His hold on her, like a tether to a world that had seemed oh so far away, became distant. The Doctor's fingers numbed, falling away from Amy. Leaving the knots of her hair and the comfort of her waist, dragged into a realm that was quite frankly terrifying.

The Doctor's anatomy was being hauled backwards by some unknown force, sifting through the cowering crowd like a knife through warm butter. He wanted to cry out for Amy, her screams lost amongst so many others. But his throat was dry, and when he tried to summon voice none would come. It was like the world had become muted, the Doctor's ears not really hearing the wails around him. Through the darkness his eyes searched for Amy, to no avail. Whatever was holding him had a vice-like grip around his torso. Constricting the beating of his hearts, forcing them to push out against the pressure.

They could only take so much strain.

The Doctor closed his eyes, the lack of light making no difference to the curtain of black before him. Something about the world changed with his eyes closed. Warmth temporarily returned before being ripped out by the cold. She was a cruel, unforgiving mistress, coaxing every sporadic glimpse of warmth from his body. He was left cold, unmoving, like stone.

Giving up on the little resistance he'd shown, The Doctor felt his knees go to dust underneath him. Had it not been for the phantom support around his chest, he would've slumped to the floor.

"We have the one who calls himself the Doctor."

The metallic voice rang out about the pandemonium. The timbre, harsh and brutal, brought the ruckus to a standstill. Surrounding him, the Doctor imagined many different species, frozen in a shared panic.

A pinprick of red glowed before the Doctor, his eyes cracked open from the sound of the voice. It hovered mere inches before him, the deep light pouring into him, searching.

"Species designation: Time lord."

A hum of approval seemed to echo throughout the room. Amy felt her throat dry out.

"The Doctor of Gallifrey, you have been charged by the Interverse Planetarian Council for withholding information to which you had no right. You shall plead guilty or face consequences." The beam of light ceased - much to the Doctor's gratitude. It had begun to make his eyes sting.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The Doctor managed to spit the words with disgust.

"The Doctor of Gallifrey must not lie. Section Bravo-Delta-Nine of the Inter -"

"I know that bit!" He spared the captor having to reel off pointless information.

"Then you shall surrender, and by doing so plead guilty. Or face consequences." Breath ghosted over the Doctor's face. The face – _or a variant thereof_ – had long since invaded his personal space.

"If I plead guilty?"

Amy's heart rose in her throat. He wouldn't dare.

"If the Doctor of Gallifrey pleads guilty then he faces a punishment of eternal confinement in a collapsing event horizon, whilst undergoing torture inflicted by any means the court deems necessary."

"And if I plead not guilty?"

The Doctor's pulse was sky-high. And not the good kind.

"If the Doctor of Gallifrey so wishes to deny the charges, then he shall face immediate death by any means the court deems necessary, interrupting the regeneration cycle and inducing permanent death."

The man with no face seemed to have many words for the Doctor. Roughly fifty feet away, Amy had gone limp, her whole structure failing to compute. _Torture, confinement, death, regeneration cycle_. Her cheeks became wet with tears, unruly hair sticking quickly. She made no attempt to brush it out of her face.

"No." She whispered. "No!" And again, but as a shout.

Tight fingers coiled around her arms, lifting her from the floor, sending her into a scramble. Whoever held her, two figures like the one accusing the Doctor she presumed, made their way through the crowd with ease. Accompanying her less-than-enjoyable journey was a droning warning.

"If unknown name of unknown species designation does protest against the charges, they shall face pain inflicted by any means the court deems necessary. Do you still wish to protest against the charges?" The voice, Amy realised, was now directed at her. Again a red light flashed, scanning Amy.

"Species Designation…" There was a pause of confusion. "Species designation: Unknown. Does _Amelia Pond_ of _Earth_ wish to protest against the charges?"

"Yes." The single syllable sent a bullet through the Doctor's hearts. _They shall face pain inflicted by any means._

"Amy!" The Doctor called into the darkness, hearts slowly dropping through his stomach. He tried to struggle against whatever held him back, but it was a wasted effort. "_**Amelia!**_" his voice was a cocktail of panic, confusion, guilt and innocence. The Doctor was one huge, living, oxymoron.

Amy's head was throbbing with a million different ideas and reactions. _What had she done? How was she going to fix it? __**Why was her species designation unknown?**_

Something pawed at Amy's thoughts, pressing against the wall around her mind, demanding entrance. The ache in her head only grew as an unknown entity scratched its way through her thoughts, derailing different ideas and shunning them into the fictional dirt. It was like somebody had cut her skull open and filled it with broken glass, then shook her as hard as possible.

Her breathing crept up into scared pants, occasional wails of pain breaking through. Her eyes, without Amy really realising, had slammed tightly shut. She feared that if she were to open them, something else would climb inside.

Her mind had been transformed into a barren, black landscape. Before her, her thoughts cowered away, afraid of what lurked in the shadows. A figure in front of her seemed to sway – was this the imposter, messing with Amy's head? She tried to focus her sporadic thoughts, like a beam, to direct at the unknown figure. Maybe she could somehow force him out?

"Amy." The whispered word ghosted around her seemingly empty head. Amy strained to see what had caused the sound. It sounded like the Doctor's voice, sounded the same as it did when he was worried about her – _which was always._

She tried to form words, but they wouldn't come. Like someone had shut down the part of her brain that dealt with speech. Amy was merely the observer of her own mind, she had lost all control. All she could do was stand in the seeming calm. The pain hadn't ceased, but it was lulled by the mystery presence. There was something about the way the image flickered, like a curtain of energy inside her head, that made Amy look twice.

"Doctor?" She heard her thoughts echo. The figure, indeed the Time lord, walked further into the depths of Amy's mind.

_What the hell is going on?_

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><p>Erm.<p>

Sorry to leave it there. But as I said, I just want a chapter out here.

And ASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKLASDFGHJKL; HAVE YOU GUYS WATCHED LET'S KILL HITLER? I don't like River/Doctor (Amy/11 is beast), but it was still a great episode. When River was grinding on Matt, bloody hell, that was too much. Poor Doctor must've felt so violated and awkward and dirty. To be honest, it makes me feel violated seeing all the gifs of it! :L

Anyway, please tell me how bad this chapter was in a review?

Love you all,

**Maddie.**


	12. Chapter XII

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK TWO WEEKS;_; I've had no inspiration. And I had my first week back at school as a _year 10_! That's mental, right? Anyway, please enjoy this chapter! I don't like asking, but do you think I could get to 100 reviews? There might be something special, I'm not really sure yet!

**Disclaimer (I haven't said in a while..): I own nothing! Doctor Who belongs to the BBC. Oh, and I make no profit from this. Whatsoever.**

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><p>Amy had come to know the feeling of fear quite well. She recognised the way it sat in her hearts, lingering, building into something so much stronger than she could ever imagine. In total truth, Amy knew that there was no other emotion quite like fear. Nothing else could interfere so much with her that it rendered her useless. Fear keeps you alive, sometimes. Your reactions are sharp and you <em>run.<em> Other times, fear is just another nail in the coffin.

Still the Doctor advanced into the gloom, looking around in false fascination. "Such a simple mind." His voice was tired, fed up.

The Doctor spoke with a wavering voice, like had trouble sticking to one topic of conversation. His brain worked differently, capable of sustaining so many different, _brilliant_ thoughts at once. Amy knew it was possible that he was distracted by something, although she wasn't sure what.

"Simple minds are always the easiest. Not much of challenge are you, Pond?"

And it burns.

It burnt with a fire that seemed to be freezing and boiling at the same time, scalding and numbing her. Her veins seemed to collapse, the blood either solidifying or evaporating. Her skin seemed to tear away, exposing her to more of the heat. It sank through her at an alarming pace, melting her bones and only strengthening the fear. Amy's scars had become independent of her arm, each significantly hurting more than the rest of her. Twenty angry, blisteringly hot chasms imploding with unbearable heat.

Amy wanted to scream. Her voice, the little that wasn't consumed by the burn, was stolen away. Trapped in her vocal chords, igniting in the back of her throat.

"You feel the pain don't you, Amy? And it hurts, doesn't it? But not as much as when I left you behind. _Again_. I told you I did it for your own good. And you believed me!"

The Doctor's voice was different, so much colder and unforgiving. The way the words warped through Amy's mind, bouncing off the walls of her skull, increasing in volume. They were each carefully pronounced, flowing from his mouth like a well-practised speech.

"You believe a lot of things, don't you? Little Amelia, so naïve. You believe those things that I told you. You believe them so much that you _never see the lie_. It's time to open your eyes, don't you think?"

The burn ceased, immense pain that had threatened to tear her apart vanished. Like she'd imagined the entire thing.

"_We are inside your head Amy. This isn't your imagination, however. Oh no. This is __**real**__."_

Suddenly, so suddenly that Amy didn't really see it, light flooded in. Right now she seemed to be standing in the middle of a warehouse. A warehouse that didn't exist. A warehouse that could never possibly be real, crammed inside her head. The Doctor was right. This was real. So real that Amy could feel the weight of her on her feet, feel her chest rising and falling dramatically. She was standing in the middle of her own mind.

And not two feet from her stood the Time lord.

His normal tweed jacket and bowtie had been cast aside in favour of a more dark collaboration of a trim suit jacket and tailored black trousers that cut off around his ankles. His hair, Amy was so used to seeing it fall helplessly around his face, was combed back into a rather neat style. To neat to really be The Doctor, she thought.

"I told you I loved you. You remember that, of course you do. You remember the way it made you feel, the way your heart seemed to get just that bit lighter. The way your thoughts all ceased and you lost focus. You lost your grip, whatever it was, on reality. And you liked it, didn't you? Oh Amy, you fell for it."

Moving quickly, the Doctor pressed his lips against Amy's. She couldn't bring herself to call it a kiss, it was devoid of all emotion and the Doctor's lips against hers felt like nothing more than stone.

"I don't love you Amy."

Amy pretended like she hadn't heard.

"Would you like me to say it again? I don't Amy. I never did. I _lied_."

Those words, the way they echoed mercilessly, struck right through Amy's chest.

Amy bit back the pain. The Doctor was perfectly capable of lying, but to create such a perfect scenario - that she'd totally fell for - seemed beyond him. He wasn't the kind of man to cause pain to those he liked, loved even. Whatever was wrong with him, it was screaming in Amy's face. Blinded by the panic and the fear swelling in her chest, she couldn't see it.

"Doctor?" Amy whispered his name, distressed.

A low, menacing chuckle echoed around the space. It made Amy's stomach ripple. Like an evil laugh of a villain, but much more intimidating and dark.

"This isn't you! Who are you? Who are you?" Despite the quiet timbre of her voice, Amy still demanded answers. Had the Doctor - and she meant the real doctor - actually been here, he would've admired her courage. That's why he liked Amy; she was never one to let her point go unknown. Even in a situation such as this one. Amelia Pond would not be defeated.

Not again.

"Get it through your thick human head. I do not love you Amy. I never did. You couldn't see past the lie. Love makes you blind, they say. It just made you stupid."

His words were like a slap in the face. A cold, stinging, slap across the cheek. Amy could physically feel the air being knocked from her lungs. Tears threatened, but didn't fall. Amy held them back, afraid of the reaction they'd provoke.

This couldn't be real. This was inside her head, fictional, impossible. Any moment now her eyes would snap open and Amy would be lying on the TARDIS floor, staring up at the Time lord. There would be an expression of panic decorating his features, love and worry worked into those ancient eyes. Nothing would be hidden, it would be clear to Amy that this was just a nightmare.

No secrets.

The Doctor continued to fight against the grip behind him. This would be so much easier, he decided, if we shed a little light on the situation. The dark does nothing but cause panic. Right now, it was certainly doing its job. Around him there were still faint echoes of chaos, although they had died down significantly.

Significantly enough so that he could hear Amy's soft whimpers. They seemed amplified through the dark, ricocheting around his head. He snatched his bottom lip between his teeth, wincing. What were they doing to her? With each delicate cry, the Doctor's hearts seemed to constrain a bit more. An unknown grip tightening around them, vice-like. It showed no sign of letting up.

"Let her go!" The threatening tone of his voice didn't come off as strong as he'd hoped. In fact, it had turned into a desperate plea.

"Stop it!" He called again into the dark as another wave chorused from Amy. "Stop hurting her! She's wrong! I plead guilty!"

Everything stopped.

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><p>. Did you like it? If you did, or if you didn't, why don't you tell me in a review?;) This has been a long time coming, hope I did well for you guys! This chapter was a dedication to every reviewer that has ever left me a review. Or every person that has ever read this. Thank you. A lot. Thank you, thank you, thank you!<p>

I got some of the inspiration from this song from 'Secrets (Sorcerer's Apprentice Version) by OneRepublic. I think you should all go and listen right now!

Also, point for discussion: Did you find Night Terrors scary? I did..

As always, an awkward Voldemort/Draco hug for every reviewer! Love you all,

Maddie,


	13. Author's Note

**Hi guys. It's nice to be writing something like this again, although it's bittersweet. I'm just going to say this now, this isn't an 'update' as such. There isn't a whole chapter waiting for you after this, it's a mere five lines, which is disappointing by any standard. I'm uploading this so you can see what I've been pondering over. I got stuck and never really found my motives again. I'd like to apologise to everybody that's ever read this, the support I've gotten throughout is overwhelming and monumentally important to me - I'm eternally grateful. However, this fic has been long abandoned. And will probably have remained abandoned unless I'd decided to do this.**

**This will most likely (most definitely likely) be the last 'update' of Science & Faith. I am not in the right mental, or physical, health to be writing any more. It's for the best that I leave it here, I don't want to damage myself or put myself at any risk. **

**_I could never, ever have gotten this far without the support and love from reviewers and readers. I can not express my thanks enough. _  
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**I'm sorry I couldn't be good enough to finish this for all of you,**

* * *

><p>Cold relief washed over Amy, pooling in her stomach. Behind her closed eyes, tiny flecks of light and colour danced across her eyelids. It was dizzying to watch but Amy preferred it to opening her eyes and facing the situation. Unsure of what she'd be met with, keeping her eyes closed was probably the best way. Whatever had been inside her head, if it ever even was, it was gone now. The way it left her knees buckling under pressure, making her head pound to a ridiculous tempo, left Amy in no doubt that it had in fact happened. She just couldn't work out why.<p> 


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